For Love
by JellieMonkeh
Summary: Sequel to For Blood. A year ago, Ichigo met Rukia and triggered a series of tragic and fateful events that changed their lives forever. Now, exiled from Japan and separated from their loved ones, they must learn to trust in one another or risk losing even more.
1. Prologue

**Author's Note:** Hello my lovelies! It has been far too long since I last posted a story, but I finally have For Love in a place where I feel it is ready to share with you all! I will admit, I'm still working on it, but updates should be fairly consistent. I really hope you enjoy the second part of this story as much as you loved For Blood.

For those of you who haven't read my story before, please note that **this is the second part of this story**. The first part is called **For Blood**. Please read For Blood first before continuing with For Love. If you don't you'll probably be pretty confused as to what's going on.

Thank you to all the people who continued to read For Blood so many years after I published it, favorite it, and review it. Seeing so many people enjoying it helped motivate me to keep working on For Love.

Time for some formalities:

Bleach belongs to Tite Kubo. I'll only give this credit in the first chapter, as we're all pretty familiar with who owns Bleach.

This story is rated M for language, violence, and adult themes.

Now, without further ado, here is the first chapter of For Love!

 **Author's Soundtrack:**  
Delirious (Boneless) (Reid Stefan Remix) (feat. Kid Ink) - Steve Aoki (music playing in the club)  
The Hunted - Snow Ghosts

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Prologue

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The Red Room - one of Miami's hottest dance clubs. An impressive feat given its recent establishment in the epicenter of downtown nightlife. Within weeks it earned a reputation for catering to the women of Miami with heart-pounding music, flavorful drinks, and sleek designs that incorporated plenty of places to relax for those less interested in dancing. And where the women congregated, the men were sure to follow.

Nearing midnight, the Red Room was packed to capacity. A long line snaked along the side of the building, shifting anxiously as they waited for their chance to get into the latest hotspot. Inside, loud music pulsed and pounded. Brightly colored lights oscillated from tracks hanging from the ceiling, casting beams of red, blue, green, and purple onto the swaying crowd below. Bodies crammed together onto the dance floor grinding, moving with the music that rolled over them. Like a pied piper, it hypnotized them, suppressing all feelings of control and summoning something more carnal.

A pair of dark green eyes watched the undulating mass with a mixture of nauseating disgust and mind numbing lust. He longed to be among them, devoured and overwhelmed by complete freedom and lust, their bodies pressed against his, suffocating him, loving him. Yet the thoughts caused him to shiver, his stomach revolting at the thought of sweaty skin pressed against sweaty skin. He took a swig of his beer to wash away the vile taste that had settled in his mouth.

"Damien, what the hell is your deal?"

Turning away from the tempting display of vulgarity, Damien was accosted with the sight of more depraved behavior that enticed a darker side of himself. Hidden away from the prying eyes of the crowd below, the dimly lit and well-furnished VIP room lent itself to facilitating the wanton desires of its occupants. Thankfully, Marcos' gangly form was an ample distraction. It was difficult to succumb to temptation when a mug like his was invading his personal space. This close, Damien was convinced he could have counted every pokey crater that marred Marcos' gaunt face. The pungent smell of his most recent drug use assaulted his nose and doused the small spark of yearning like a bucket of water.

Marcos should have been enjoying one of the many women scattered about the room instead of harassing Damien. The ratio was decidedly working in his favor. Each member of Damien's group could have had two women each. In fact, several of them did. And there was enough alcohol present that the women could have easily ignored Marcos' appearance. Marcos enjoyed blaming his failing luck with women on their poor taste, but it probably had more to do with his bad hygiene. Alcohol could only help so much.

"I know you've got this whole 'dark and broody' thing going on, but how about you put that aside and help a brother out."

Damien was in no mood to assist Marcos in his endeavors to get laid. He was a leech who was lucky enough to be best friends with Shane, and that was all. His driving skills were mediocre at best. Every time the subject of replacing the parasite with a better getaway driver came up, Shane refused to listen. One of these days, Marcos was going get them caught, and Damien didn't want to be with them when that happened. Too bad he still owed a shit ton of money. These small time jobs were barely making him enough to cover his interest rate and keep the loan sharks off his back.

"Have you tried not being yourself?" Damien offered in a flat tone. He took another drink of his beer, finding some solace in Marcos' affronted scowl.

"Nice, dick. Look, all you have to do is stand next to me. You don't even have to say anything."

Without another word, Marcos swung his arm around Damien's shoulders and dragged him across the room to a small group of bored looking girls. All of them were dressed in painful looking heels that could have double as weapons, short skirts, low dipping tops, and layers of makeup that had his eyes traveling back down to the skirts just to make sure there wasn't anything they were hiding. As they approached, a couple of the girls curled their noses, indicating their displeasure with seeing Marcos.

"Ladies," Marcos said with a long draw. "This here is my friend, Damien."

Damien glowered at Marcos, tempted to break his arm. The expressions on the girls' faces changed almost instantaneously as they flickered over to Damian. The spark flickered back to life as their eyes trailed over him slowly. One girl was brazen enough lick her lips, her tongue sliding slowly over the plump painted muscles that looked slightly swollen. Flashes of teeth scraping against his skin, biting tenderly and forcing his eyes to roll, had him swallowing the swell in his throat.

"Hi Damien," the one with teeth cooed, sauntering forward, accentuating the sway of her hips as she approached. The spark grew larger until she slid her hand up his chest, her long fingers gliding up his neck and tangling with his hair. The moment her skin touch his the spark disappeared with a snap and left him feeling more queasy than hungry.

"Get off."

"Aw, don't be like that," she whispered in his ear, her lips caressing the lobe. He wanted to slam her into the wall and take her right then and there. He wanted to throw her off him and run away. Marcos was right. What the hell was wrong with him? "I can make you feel real good."

One of her hands slid lower. She made a pleased hum at her findings. What he wouldn't give to be able to cave and let himself drown in the filth that surrounded him. And just as quickly as the craving to succumb overwhelmed him, it vanished. Grabbing her wrists, he untangled himself from her and pushed her away. She stumbled as she caught her heel on an upturned corner of a rug. Righting herself, she glared at him.

"Asshole! What the fuck is your problem?"

A good question. Ignoring her, he turned and made his way to the door. The continuous rollercoaster of emotions had taken its toll. All he wanted to do was go back to his dingy little hotel room, crash on the bed, and forget about being dragged out to this hell hole.

The music and darkness of the Red Room engulfed him like an angry lover. The VIP room had muffled the hammering beat of the music. Now it pounded against him, striking at the cracks already marring the walls he'd put in place.

He saw her as he descended the stairs. Standing in the middle of the surging crowd she was like an island - solitary and unmoving. Blonde hair like sand, blue eyes like the sea, grounded as if nothing could move her. Her piercing gaze struck him like a harpoon, pinning him to the stairs, daring him to fight her. Something pulled on that invisible line, drawing him toward her. Someone bumped into him, jolting him back to reality. When he looked back, she was gone.

Without knowing why, Damien searched the crowd, looking for that shock of blue. Disappointment crashed against him like a wave, drawing back and leaving only the urge to find her. Hurrying down the stairs, he pushed his way to the spot where he'd first seen her. Bodies pressed against him like a soft, suffocating pillow. Thoughts of disgust were quieted by the need to find her. He knew she wouldn't be there when he finally got to the center. All he found was more of the same, his body jostled in the crowd, but all he could focus on was the blow of defeat.

"You shouldn't have come."

Among the noise of the music, the din of the crowd, he was able to hear her voice, as if it was the only sound in the room. Her husky tone filled his ears and grabbed hold of him like a chain. He searched for her, but she wasn't there.

"This won't end well."

"I don't care."

He didn't see her, but he responded anyway. There was no way she should have heard him. It was too loud, and he had only whispered his defiance. But now she was standing in front of him. She was tall, nearly as tall as himself. Her body was curvaceous and barely covered in a thin sheet of white. Her dark limbs were slim and long. Images of those legs wrapped around his torso filled his mind, and he found he couldn't stop looking. He was trapped and he didn't care.

Her lips curved slightly, and then she was directly in front of him, her lips so close he just had to lean forward ever so slightly to touch them.

"You should."

"Who are you?"

Her smile widened, revealing the pearly white of her teeth. "Someone dangerous."

It was difficult to believe she could hide a weapon on her. There was little of her that was masked by clothing. But there was something about her that made the hair on his arms raise, as if the room was filled with electricity. She wasn't lying. She was dangerous. Still he didn't care. Leaning forward, he captured her lips in a tentative kiss. The crowd was gone, the music nothing more than a dull hum. It was just him and her. When the feeling of revulsion didn't hit, he was hooked.

"Want to get out of here?"

Her tongue slid across her lips, and Damien felt like his knees might give way. The difference between this woman and the one from the VIP room was unimaginable. What was it that drew him to her when all others made him want to cleanse himself in scalding hot water? There wasn't anything special about her. Miami was full of gorgeous women capable of seducing men with a single look. And yet none of them could get past his weakness. Hell, just watching her disappear into the crowd was enough to have him chasing after her like a puppy. It was strange. It was wrong. It was all he could think about.

The humid night air and smell of brine mixed with exhaust fumes greeted him as he stepped outside. Sitting at the curb, waiting for them like a golden chariot, was a yellow Lamborghini convertible. Whoever this woman was, she had expensive taste. Not for the first time he felt self-conscious of his own poverty. But as she slid into the driver's seat, a flash of what was waiting beneath the tiny dress scattered his concerns like leaves in the wind. She could be some rich man's trophy wife looking for a good time, it didn't matter. He hurried to the passenger side and closed the door.

Before he had his seatbelt on, she shifted the car into gear and took off down the street. 0 to 60 in three seconds. The warm Florida hair whipped his dark hair about his face. Lights streamed passed them in a colorful blur. Adrenaline pumped through his veins as she recklessly wove between cars and ignored red lights and stop signs, bursting through intersections like a shiny yellow bullet. He waited for the sound of sirens and the flashing red and blue lights of the law, but they didn't come, and soon they were outside the city limits.

The sparkling lights of Miami shrank into the distance behind them, and the darkness of the suburbs swallowed them whole.

He expected her to take them an isolated area or perhaps back to her place in a bold move against her husband. After nearly thirty minutes, he grew confused, the high of longing fading the further into the country they went.

"Where are we going?"

She hummed in amusement. "Some place fun."

"Some place fun" apparently meant a large, run-down estate somewhere in the middle of the everglades. She pulled off the main road and crossed a single bridge. Its entrance was protected by a rickety iron gate. The rusted doors were falling off their hinges, several rods missing and leaving gaping holes in the barrier.

The house wasn't in much better shape. In the dark, it was difficult to tell what color it was supposed to be - perhaps white or another pale color. Most of it was peeling off the surface, revealing the worn cement beneath. The majority of the windows were dark and boarded up with pieces of molding wood. An ivy had claimed nearly every side of the house and died, leaving behind the stringy veins. One side of the house looked like it was losing a battle with the everglades, and slowly sinking into the murky waters. He had seen haunted houses that looked better than this place.

Maybe she had some kind of fascination with having sex in creepy places. The sight of the building unnerved him, and the thought of banging inside was less than appealing, but like hell he was going to screw this opportunity up. Who knew when he would feel like this again?

The Lamborghini came to a smooth stop in front of the wide double doors, and she climbed out. His eyes watched her smooth legs until she closed the door. He followed her up the stairs.

She opened the door. He could barely see inside, but a feeling of dread washed over him. Damien felt his bravery crumble. Turning, she gave him an inquisitive look.

"Lose your nerve?"

He wanted to say no and continue inside. He wanted to slam her body against that heavy looking door and take her before they were even over the threshold. He wanted to ravage her and take back control of his own thoughts. But something tugged at him, urging him to turn around and drive back to Miami.

Reading his hesitation, she sighed in disappointment. "Unfortunate."

Silently he cursed himself and pushed the impulse to run to the far reaches of his mind. He wasn't going to let a little bit of fear screw this up for him. Steeling his nerves, he climbed the small set of porch stairs towards her. He thought about pushing her against the door frame like he imagined, and having his way right there, but he didn't like the way she was watching him. In the club and car her gaze had felt hungry, like she could devour him whole. Now, framed by the dilapidated entrance, those eyes were watching him like a predator hunting its prey. Every movement drew her focus, eyes unblinking as if waiting for the perfect moment to strike.

He was past her and in the foyer, eager to escape her scrutiny and gather his wits about him. The entrance hall to the house was in the same shape as the outside. The room itself was grand looking, circular in shape with a marble staircase hugging the far wall. The railing was nothing but a worn skeleton, the metal spindles bent and twisted like a set of gnarled black ribs. A large chandelier dangled precariously from a series of fraying wires. Below it the marble tiles were cracked and chipped. Doorways leading to other parts of the house barely managed to cling to their hinges. At one point this house was probably magnificent, but now it was nothing more than a decaying ghost of its former glory.

"You seem intrigued."

She was behind him, whispering in his ear. Her breath sent waves of heat rolling over his skin. As calmly as he could, he turned and took a step back.

"Kind of expected a woman like you to live in a place that was a bit more up-to-date, less haunted."

She quirked her head to the side, considering his words as her eyes traversed the room. "It certainly wasn't my first choice, but it has everything I need."

Looking at him again, she grinned. "Shall I give you a tour?"

He hesitated. The longer he stayed here, the more quickly the temptation of satisfying his needs wore off. It didn't matter what kinds of levels of heaven she could take him to.

Then she was in front of him. Startled, he stepped back. His foot slipped on a piece of the railing that had fallen, and his back struck against the wall. He tried to right himself, but she was pressing against him. It might have given him some satisfaction, taken the edge off of his nerves, if not for her fingers wrapping around his throat and closing. Air stopped filling his lungs as he tried to inhale. His face grew cool as the blood stopped flowing. All the while she looked at him with an amused smile.

"You've brought me another specimen, I see."

A man stood at the top of the stairs, gazing down at them. Damien couldn't make out his face, hidden in the dark of the room. His vision was blurring and turning sideways as the lack of oxygen began to affect him.

"Make sure no one comes looking for him."

She gave an amused noise that sounded almost like a purr. "Doubtful. He runs with a bunch of criminals. None of them seem too attached to one another. Did you know they've been looking for ways to cut you out? Apparently, Marcos has been getting rather annoyed with your attitude."

Damien's eyes widened. Her teeth glinted in the light of the moon that shone through the cracked window. How had she known about them? About him? They weren't the smartest gang around, but they were smart enough to cover their tracks. And for her to know about their personal relationships - she had to be lying. Sure, they weren't friends who hung out on the weekends, but they weren't traitors.

A chuckle escaped her lips. "Don't feel too bad. Your little leader was rather hesitant, but this should make his life much easier."

"Enough chatter, Halibel," the man above them scolded her. "I want to begin immediately. I'm growing weary of negative results."

The grip Halibel had on his throat loosened slightly, and her smile faltered. As confident and as strong as this woman appeared to be, she was still afraid of the man above them. What the hell had he gotten himself into? It was the last thought he had before his vision filled with black and he lost consciousness.

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I hope you all enjoyed! Please leave reviews and your thoughts.


	2. Chapter One

**Author's Notes:** Thanks to everyone who read the prologue! It was nice to see so many people interested in reading the sequel despite how long it's been. I hope I do right by you all by continuing to provide a story that keeps you interested.

I do have a playlist I'm putting together. I love pairing music with stories as I think it sets the mood. I'm trying to figure out the best approach for sharing it with you all - whether it be a list or the actual link to listening to it on Google Play. I'll let you know.

I want to throw out a special thanks to **BigNickDiggers, Hese Solstis, Hatake Tsughi, and 2 guests** for the lovely welcome backs and the reviews. Thank you so much. I'm glad you guys were willing to hang in there and wait for the sequel!

Hese Solstis and a guest brought up how nice it was to get an Ichigo / Rukia story. I love this pairing, and while I know that Kubo made Ichigo and Orihime cannon I will probably always put these two together. I feel they just simply work with the world and personalities Kubo create. I won't hate on Ichigo / Orihime, just like I hope that people don't hate on Ichigo / Rukia.

With that rant over with, here is the next chapter of For Love!

 **Author's Soundtrack:**  
Heathens - Twenty One Pilots (I originally had another song, but this one just fit)

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Chapter One

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It was raining. Again.

Rukia had warned him the weather was different here. Had he known "different" meant "constantly raining or cloudy with about five minutes of sunshine only a few days in the summer months" he might have considered staying in Japan. Even after nearly a year he still couldn't get used to how wet everything was. It was a miracle the people who lived here could stand it, but the streets were packed. A low hum of chatter and engines floated up to the rooftops. Rain wouldn't keep these people inside. He wasn't sure if that meant they were resilient or unhinged.

From his perch in a small alcove, he pressed himself deeper into the shadow of a stone angel. It did a mediocre job of keeping him from getting soaked as he watched people mill about below, but it was better than nothing.

He had been like them once, walking about, meeting up with friends, enjoying life, and worrying about what college he would get into. Innocent. Naive. It was strange. It hadn't been that long ago and he was already having trouble remembering what it felt like. To glance into dark alleys and see nothing. To hear strange noises in the night and shrug. Now he knew what lurked in those alleys. What hid in the shadows. The world was no longer a place to explore and enjoy. It was a den of chaos and death.

Something stirred in the depths of his soul, clawing at him and the walls he'd managed to put up around it, aching to be free and revel in that chaos. He flinched as it marred the surface, digging and struggling. He would never let it loose. He would never let it control him.

A woman tripped over her own shoes. Her friends laughed and helped her to her feet. The smell of blood was barely detectable as it shimmered in the palms of her hands. The scrapes were small, paper thin lines that were more a nuisance than anything. Still, his throat felt dry and raw. The world around him faded into different shades of gray, making the blood more vivid. A shock of alluring ruby amongst the drudge. The walls shook.

And then her hand was gone, covered by an umbrella as they continued moving down the sidewalk.

He bit down on his lip, digging his sharp canines into the soft flesh until he drew blood. The sweet metallic taste was enough to trick his urges into settling, but it was only a temporary relief. He scolded himself for his own weakness. He was better than this. He wasn't some animal led around by his own hunger. He was Ichigo Kurosaki, a young vampire who would fight for the humanity he abandoned.

Running his hands through his damp hair, he scoffed at his feeble attempt to appear righteous. The reality was hardly heroic. What he wanted was revenge, simple as that. And he wasn't going to get any closer to that goal if he didn't focus on his current task. If he messed this up, Rukia would sideline him and force him to go through another round of training. Shaking the water from his hair, he shifted into a more comfortable position and began the slow and methodical search of the crowd below, looking for any signs of the monster that was on the hunt.

For several weeks a vampire had been stalking the citizens of London, ripping women off the streets in the middle of the night and dumping their mutilated corpses around the city. Every single one of the victims had been found with their throats shredded like strips of gruesome confetti, their bodies drained of blood. After the first few victims, Ichigo was convinced this was a deranged human serial killer. Vampires liked their privacy, from what he could tell, and these killings were far too public. They cried for attention, to be seen and known. Rukia disagreed and decided to prove her point with a field trip to the morgue.

His stomach churned in a disturbing blend of disgust and hunger when he recalled the mangled bodies laid out on the cold metal slabs.

Rogue. That's what Rukia had called their killer as she returned the cover to the bodies. Vampires who were loyal to no Council, traveling wherever they wanted, when they wanted, doing whatever they wanted. Living by their own rules, they spurned Council law. What Aizen had left behind had been a disorganized, mindless army trapped living on instinct alone. Feeding their unquenchable thirst, they left blatant trails of destruction. Rogues were different. They were not slaves to their instincts, but partners. They could think and act strategically all to serve their own desires, making them considerably more dangerous than the creatures Aizen created.

"They're obnoxious shits. They show up, do as they please, give us the middle finger, and bugger off." That had been Shinji's way of explaining it.

Except this particular rogue didn't seem satisfied with leaving a pile of bodies and "buggering off". Most rogues were known to stay in a territory for a week at the most. Any longer and they risked exposing themselves and getting caught. Councils don't take kindly to their rules being ignored, especially the British Council. This rogue was on his sixth kill in three weeks. Rukia was growing increasingly frustrated.

There was movement on the rooftop above him. The sweet scent of cherry blossoms was dampened by the rain, but it was still easy for him to detect. He could almost always smell her. Her blood had a similar flavor, sweet and fragrant. Phantom sensations of his teeth piercing pale flesh and her decadent blood filling his mouth nearly overwhelmed him, beating on the walls of his resolve with a trembling force. Scowling, he shook his head and concentrated on the sour stench of a rotund man vomiting his dinner on the sidewalk below.

"Any sign of him?"

Taking a deep breath, Ichigo managed to gather his composure before replying. "Not yet."

The soles of her shoes scraped the cinder block above him. Glancing up, he saw her standing on the edge of the ledge, leaning over to stare down at the street. The rain had soaked her hair, plastering the dark tendrils to the sides of her cream-colored face. Her dark clothes clutched enticingly to every slight curve. He forced his gaze to her eyes.

"Maybe he's finally had his fill and moved on." Doubtful, but he needed to say something.

She shook her head. "Unlikely. He's stuck around this long. At this point, he's mocking us. He's daring us to come find him and stop him."

"He's doing a real good job of avoiding us." An unnerving thought popped into his head. "Think someone's been leaking our movements to him?"

The muscles along her neck tightened as she clenched her jaw. He could see the gears turning, her mind working to see all the potential angles. Could there be a leak? Were they sending information to this maniac? To what point? And the biggest question, were they connected with Aizen? Perhaps he was being paranoid, letting his hatred of Aizen convince him the man was responsible for everything terrible thing that happened in their lives. The world was an old, large place filled with all types of enemies, not just one.

Amongst all the other things he was learning about his new life, Ichigo had discovered the Councils were on less than friendly terms with one another. Where he had thought there was an interconnected community of vampires, there was a fragmented cluster of foreign powers vying for the best resources. They used subterfuge to spy on one another to gain the upper hand in all matters of diplomacy and war. It was almost funny how similar the vampires were to the humans.

So could this rogue be someone planted by another Council to spy on the British Council's recovery and test them?

"There's always a chance," Rukia finally responded, her deep voice speaking the words with the slow draw of hesitation as if saying it made the possibility more likely.

"Either way, it's not going to make our job any easier," he offered in weak consolation. Standing, he reached above his head and grabbed hold of the ledge. With ease, he pulled himself up and over the edge to stand next to Rukia. A year ago he would have broken his neck trying such a stunt, now it was as natural as taking a step.

"When has our job ever been easy?" She smirked up at him and he wondered if craning her neck like that hurt. He wasn't stupid enough to ask. He rather liked his shins without bruises.

She turned and hopped onto the flat surface of the roof. The gravel barely shifted under her weight as she landed, her footsteps inaudible as she made her way towards the access door. He enjoyed watching the subtle sway of her hips, the confident, powerful stride of her step.

How easy would it be? To catch up to her, tilt her head to the side, and just sink his teeth in?

He stilled, regretting the thought as soon as it appeared in his mind.

"Are you staying here or moving on to the next sector?"

He suddenly felt like irritating her - revenge for clouding his senses and tempting him. "Wherever my princess commands." With a flourish of his arm, he gave a slight bow. He didn't have to see her face to know she was glaring at him, but he looked up anyway.

The corners of her eyes twitched in annoyance and a tempting vein in her neck pulsed as she worked her jaw. And then she was in front of him, the butt of her sword slamming into his gut. He coiled in around it and gasped for breath. It was always surprising how much power she could put behind her strikes.

"You asked for it," she remarked casually as he growled his displeasure. "You know I hate being called that."

Despite the heft of the blow, he didn't regret it. It was childish, he knew, but sometimes he simply couldn't help himself. There was something devilishly satisfying about ruffling her feathers. It was almost like they were normal people, living normal lives. His amusement faltered when her demeanor suddenly changed. Her features softened and her eyes darkened with a sadness he was painfully familiar with.

"You all right?"

The emotion was gone with a blink. She schooled her features and replaced the icy mask she normally wore. "I'm fine."

Obviously, that was a lie, but when Rukia didn't want to talk about something, there was nothing to be done. But it was easy enough to guess at what had bothered her, what had revealed the tender wounds she kept hidden away. He wasn't the only one who had lost everything.

Placing a hand on her shoulder, he felt a bolt of heat run up his arm. The sensation was like a shock to his system, and he felt the need to jump back, feel his heartbeat steady. He managed to keep his hand in place and even offer a smile.

If she felt a similar sensation, she didn't show it. Instead, she glanced up at him and barely managed to stifle a burst of laughter.

He scowled and pulled his hand away, the uncomfortable heat dying immediately. "What's so funny?"

"Your face," she snorted. "It looks like you're constipated."

Ignoring her, mostly because he couldn't come up with any kind of retort that would salvage his ego, Ichigo started towards the door. Despite it coming at the cost of his own pride, he was relieved to see her smile.

Unfortunately, it was short-lived.

The wind shifted, carrying the scent of blood directly to them. It was faint, like a finger pricked by glass. The cacophony of other smells mixed with the rain made it difficult to detect, but it was there. Someone was bleeding, and not from a mere scratch.

Rukia was pressing on her earpiece. "We've picked up the scent of human blood. Judging by the wind direction, it's more than likely coming from Sector 4. Wait for the signal while Kurosaki and I confirm it's our target."

"Wait. What?" Ichigo rounded on her. She ignored him.

" _Confirmed. Alpha Team on standby and awaiting your signal."_

Rukia dropped her hand from her ear and turned to see the stern look he was giving her.

"What are you doing?"

"My job," she replied curtly, quirking an eyebrow. He felt the strings of his patience twang. He hated when she played innocent.

"Do you know how much shit I'm going to get in if the Councillors find out I let you come into the field with me?"

The vein in her neck pulsed again and her eyes flashed dangerously. Admittedly, he probably could have said that better, but he really didn't like getting bitched at by ten different people.

"You aren't 'letting' me do anything," she snapped sharply. "If the Chancellors have a problem with it, they can come to me directly."

He was pretty sure they had. Rukia was notorious for failing to be a good little Councilor who sat on her hands and remained behind in the safety of the surveillance van or even her office in the Consulate. It was generally frowned upon that someone of her position was actively putting herself in danger when it wasn't necessary. And it stopped being necessary about five months ago. Of course, the hunters who worked with her appreciated being led by someone who was more than willing to fight beside them and get their hands dirty. They respected her and would do anything she asked them to.

Which is why he didn't normally put up much of a fight. As much as he wanted to do his job and keep her safe, he knew there was no stopping her. And she normally did better after a hunt, her cheeks flushed and smiles coming more easily. They revitalized her, making her considerably more companionable and easy to live with. Tonight, however, he felt uneasy and would have preferred she stayed behind. It would never happen, but at least he could say he tried.

"I'll point them your way then," he sighed. She huffed and waved her hand in the air as if swatting a fly. He had a feeling that "fly" was making the buzzing sounds of the Councilors hounding her.

"Let them bitch. I have every right to decide who should be in the field or not, and I've determined my skills may be needed for this particular mission."

Ichigo stilled. "You mean you think this rogue might be connected to Aizen and you don't want to risk anyone else questioning him."

"Why don't we go ask them."

And then she was off, jumping from one roof to the next as if she was skipping over small puddles instead of 15-foot gaps between buildings. Ichigo was immediately behind her.

The smell of blood grew stronger the closer they got to the source. It hit him like a sledgehammer with every gust, every sniff, slamming him and shaking his bones, down to his core. He began to salivate, the roots of his fangs itching to puncture flesh and gorge himself. He bit into his lip again.

Ahead, Rukia stopped at the edge of a rooftop, her gaze focused on the alley below. Her hand was raised in a fist, signaling him to stop. When he was beside her, she indicated to look below. The harsh mixture of bright city lights and vapid darkness of the alley made it difficult for his eyes to adjust and focus on what she wanted him to see. Pulling the hood of his jacket over his head, he was able to block out the light and see the silhouette of swaying figures, like reeds dancing in the wind.

To a passerby, they might have been a couple locked in a passionate embrace. Guttural moans echoed off the brick walls, barely audible as the rain began to roar around them. It did little to dampen the staggering smell of blood.

The walls trembled.

Rukia motioned. Fortifying the walls and shaking the beast off, he dropped into the alley. His stomach fluttered, and he enjoyed the momentary thrill of freefall. Then he braced himself for impact, his knees bending as he hit the ground. Straightening, he spotted Rukia landing on the other side of the alley without a sound.

He was nearly knocked off his feet. The smell hit him like a wrecking ball, smashing against him and cracking the walls of his control. Blood. There was so much blood. It was pooled on the ground like a dam released. Streams of it traversed the trash-filled street gutter, pouring into the storm drain. The stirring beast launched itself at the fractured walls, demanding release so it could partake in the feast before him.

Covering his nose and mouth, Ichigo tried to reign everything in. This wasn't food. It wasn't a banquet. It was a human being. A person. A girl.

A girl being ripped to pieces.

She was limp, draped backwards, staring at him with vacant eyes as the vampire feasted on her flesh. He was dedicated to carefully peeling away the skin of her neck like the crispy layer of fried chicken. Veins and muscles were exposed. Blood trailed down her throat, soaking what was once a white sweater. The vampire hummed with satisfaction, licking at the freshly exposed meat. Ichigo couldn't tear his eyes away.

Suddenly the vampire stopped. He licked his lips with a loud, smacking sound and raised his head to glance at Ichigo. The lower half of his face was stained red, almost like war paint from native tribes.

"I would offer you a taste, but I don't like to share." His lips spread wide. "Not that there's much left anyway.

Bits of muscle and clots of blood were stuck between his teeth. Tufts of his black hair fell from his face, revealing a cloth covering his left eye. The woman in his arms stared at Ichigo with dull eyes. She was young, barely 20. Her whole life had been ahead of her. Now she was nothing but a lifeless shell, reduced to a meal that would be discarded like a piece of trash.

Rage consumed him. The beast was silent as he reached for his sword.

"We don't have anyone matching your description in our database." Rukia's voice was strong, steady. Ichigo was almost furious she could look so calm with such a grisly scene before her, but he wished he could be just at heartless at this moment.

The vampire didn't look at Rukia, his eye on Ichigo's hand. "Maybe your system is still busted from that attack. I heard you guys got your asses handed to you."

Rukia narrowed her eyes at the back of his head. Ichigo gripped his hilt tightly, but she didn't give him the signal to attack. They didn't know what their rogue looked like. There was a chance that this wasn't their guy. If he had permission to travel through the territory, they would have to let him go with a warning to clean up his mess. Ichigo felt the bile rise in his throat. If vampires had permission, they could kill as long as they didn't do it often and didn't leave a mess behind.

Ichigo really hoped this was their rogue.

"Name and Identification Number. Otherwise, I'll immediately label you as a rogue and take you in for questioning."

Ichigo growled unhappily at the thought of bringing this asshole in alive after what he had done. Council rules or not, he had murdered someone, killed when it wasn't necessary. Ichigo wasn't going to let him leave the territory with just a slap on the wrist.

Rukia must have heard him and shot him a look of warning.

"Silly me, I must have left my ID in my other pants." The vampire finally turned to face Rukia. Ichigo didn't like the way his smile widened even further. "Well, well, well. Isn't this my lucky night. I didn't think they were letting you out of your room."

If his comment bothered her, Rukia didn't let it show. "And what is that supposed to mean?"

He snickered. The motion shook the body of the dead women slightly and Ichigo felt his obedience slip.

"I thought they were keeping you locked up tight in that tower of theirs. Or did you sneak out? I've heard you're rather good at sneaking about."

This time, Rukia's hand settled on the hilt of her own sword. "You talk a lot."

The vampire shrugged. "So I've been told. Someone else likes to talk about you a lot as well."

She didn't twitch in response, but Ichigo noticed the rain around her freeze and bounce off her like little white pellets.

"And who would that be?"

"That's for me to know."

Rogue or not, this asshole had a connection to Aizen, which meant they needed to take him alive. Ichigo silently cursed his bad luck.

"What's he planning?" Rukia asked. Her tone was even, calm, but Ichigo could hear the slight ragged edge to her voice.

The rogue gave her a playfully confused smile. "Who?"

Her patience dwindled and she bared her teeth in a show of force. "Sousuke Aizen!"

Instead of being unnerved by her display, he hummed in thoughtful consideration, making a show of tapping his finger on his chin. The girl bobbed as he shifted his weight. "Nope. Not ringing a bell."

The grip on Rukia's sword tightened. Any minute she would break and kill the vampire, connection to Aizen or not. Ichigo was split between excitement and jealousy. He wanted to be the one to cut this douchebag into little pieces.

"I got it! Let's play a game!" The rogue's smile faded as he held the girl out like an offering. "One of you takes a good long suck and I'll answer your question."

Ichigo's stomach roiled, tumbling between desire and revulsion. "Go to Hell."

The rogue snorted. "I'd heard you were pretty tight-laced, but really, I think you're just as twisted as I am. I bet you get your kicks a different way." He tilted his head, studying Rukia as if evaluating every inch of her. "You're the types that like to be cut and sucked on."

Rukia's nose curled and he laughed.

"That's it, huh? How about we go a round, and then I'll _think_ about answering your questions."

 _Mine_.

The constraints snapped. Pulling his sword from his sheath, Ichigo charged the rogue. Burying his shoulder beneath his ribs, hitting the bastard with the full force of his body. The girl fell from his grip and hit the ground with a sickening thud. Ichigo felt a moment of regret but turned his attention to his target. The rogue stumbled backwards, nearly toppling over. Giving him no time to recover, Ichigo slammed into him again.

The rogue was tall and lanky, but it took quite a bit of power to launch him into the side of the building. Ichigo sunk the black blade of his sword into the vampire's shoulder and pinned him to the wall.

"Oh, ho, ho," the vampire chuckled. Ichigo winced as the blood on his breath wafted into his nostrils. "So, one of the Council dogs has teeth! Feeling a little territorial are we?"

Ichigo snarled and twisted his sword. Hissing, the smile finally faded, giving Ichigo a small taste of satisfaction.

"I'll ask you again," Rukia began, standing behind Ichigo. "What is Aizen planning? If you answer, I can offer you a quick death."

"An execution without a trial?" The rogue mused. "And here I thought the Councils were supposed to be just and righteous."

"Ichigo."

Ichigo twisted the blade again, earning another hiss of pain.

"Okay! All right! Shit! You guys have no sense of humor. I surrender." Mockingly, he stretched his hands out for her to cuff.

It was so slight Ichigo almost missed it. A tiny glimmer of silver. Instinctively he jumped back, but not before feeling the bite of a ragged blade as it tore across his abs. Rukia drew her own sword and struck at the rogue, but he'd gotten himself free and feinted to the left, slipping behind her. He pressed his foot to her back and kicked her into the wall. She struck it with such force it gave beneath her, burying her in dusty bricks. He began to move towards her, but Ichigo planted himself between them.

The rogue pulled up short.

"Is that all you've got?" He sighed in boredom. Lifting his sword to his eye, he studied the blood on the silver edge of the blade. Ichigo clenched his jaw and gripped his sword. The wound on his torso throbbed and ached, but he ignored it. "Can't say I understand what that maniac is thinking, but you're not nearly as interesting as he made you out to be. I suppose I shouldn't be surprised. Fangless dogs don't have much of a bite."

And then he was gone. Ichigo prepared to give chase. Like hell he was going to let this bastard live to kill again. But the sounds of Rukia digging herself out of the pile of rubble stopped him in his tracks.

"Son of a bitch," she cursed. She stumbled to her feet, clutching her right arm. Her eyes fell to his wound. "That looks pretty bad. You all right?"

He was supposed to be the bodyguard, the one who took care of her, and she was the one worried about him? Figured.

He nodded. "You?"

"Just a dislocated shoulder."

She waved him off as he approached to help. It was annoying how stubborn she could be sometimes.

"That went well," he remarked sardonically, leaning against the wall as he waited for her. He studied the rooftops above, itching to give chase. But Rukia hadn't given the order and didn't seem as interested in pursuing him, which was odd given he was very clearly connected to Aizen.

Rukia chuckled bitterly. "It certainly could have gone better." She eyed a sturdy part of the wall suspiciously. "While he was running his mouth, I managed to get a message to the Alpha Team. They should be close by. Hopefully they caught sight of him and gave chase."

That certainly explained why she wasn't moving very quickly. "Is that okay? He seems like he knows Aizen somehow."

Taking a deep breath, Rukia threw herself against the wall. Ichigo cringed as he heard an unpleasant pop. Tenderly, she groped around the joint of her shoulder, making sure everything was back in place.

"We don't have much choice in the matter. If they catch him, interrogating him at the Consulate might not be so bad. They have a better setup."

"Meaning he has a better chance of surviving your questioning."

Rukia sent him a withering glare.

The Alpha Team checking in saved Ichigo from the verbal lashing she'd been prepared to give him. It wasn't his fault she had a tendency to push the limits. Using her good arm, Rukia pressed her earpiece.

"Kuchiki."

" _Alpha Team reporting. We lost him. Should we continue pursuit until we pick up his trail again?"_

Sighing, Rukia shook her head. "No. He'll have gone into hiding. We'll keep surveillance in the area. Head back to the Consulate. We'll meet you there. Ichigo's bleeding all over the city, so we'll be stopping by the infirmary."

" _Roger. Alpha Team out."_

"I'm fine," Ichigo stated, irked she'd made it sound like he'd gotten beaten to a pulp. The guy only managed to land one hit. "It's just a scratch."

"Oh?" Reaching out, she lifted his shirt, exposing his abs to the cold rain.

"Hey!"

"Does that look like 'just a scratch' to you?"

Admittedly, the wound hurt a lot more than being grazed by a serrated knife, but the gash streaking across his muscles looked more heinous than he'd expected. The rogue's sword had sliced a six-inch tear, with lacerations stretching out from the main wound like tiny roots.

"There goes my modeling career."

Rukia rolled her eyes and dropped the hem of his shirt. The wet fabric slapped against his injury, causing him to wince.

When the pain and frustration dulled, he found himself staring at the body of the dead girl. Rain had drenched her clothing and hair. Trails of makeup and tears streaked her bronze skin. The flesh from just below her ear to the top of her shoulder had been torn away, leaving behind tattered muscles and joints, and tiny specks of bone exposed. If someone didn't know better, they would have thought a large wild cat had gone at her. Pity and grief tightened around his heart and lungs like a vice. There was nothing he could have done to save her. She was dead before they arrived, but it still felt like he failed her - just like he failed his family.

"What do we do about her?" His throat had tightened, constricting around his vocal chords and making it difficult to speak.

Rukia had pulled her phone from her pocket and was typing a message. She looked up from the bright screen and over at the girl. There was a flash of sympathy there, but it quickly vanished.

"The cleanup crew will take care of her."

Ichigo snapped. "And, what? She becomes just another missing person?"

A hand on his arm caught his attention. Pools of deep amethyst stared up at him. He wasn't sure what he saw there. Compassion? Remorse? Understanding?

"If we leave her body here for the police, it will only incite more panic. Scared humans don't tend to think logically and it may end up endangering more people." She sighed and offered him a weak smile. "I know it's not ideal, but it's the best we can do for now."

Clenching his jaw, Ichigo looked back at the girl's body. She had died in an alley, scared and probably begging for someone to save her, thinking about her family and loved ones. And now she would disappear into the depths of the Consulate until it was deemed "safe".

"She's suffered enough."

"Judging by the wounds he inflicted, she was dead within a few seconds. She didn't suffer long."

Her words were meant to be comforting, but they were anything but. They certainly wouldn't be any consolation for the girl's family, who wouldn't know what had happened to her for months. That short period where his sisters had been missing had been terrifying, not knowing whether they were alive or dead, suffering or safe.

Even then, Rukia hadn't seem affected. Considering how long she'd been alive, it shouldn't have been surprising. How many people had she seen like this? How many victims had she hidden away? How many families had she known would suffer because of her dark dealings? There were glimpses of compassion and regret, but could she feel any more than that?

The memory of her grief for Giles slapped him in the face.

"Come on," she said, tugging on his arm. "There's a surveillance van not far from here. We'll get you patched up until Dr. Bell can take a look at that."

As they exited the alley, he could hear the sounds of sirens, their long wails echoing in the night as if mourning the tragedy of it all.

* * *

Thank you all for reading!

 **Edit: The tail end of this chapter has been updated to fix a continuity error I found.**


	3. Chapter Two

**Author's Notes:** Apologies for being a bit late with updating. Last week I was preparing presents for Christmas, and then right after I got knocked off my feet with the flu. My brain is finally working well enough for a final proof round and getting this published.

 **Author's Soundtrack:**  
Beautiful Crime - Tamer

* * *

 **Chapter Two**

* * *

They crossed the River Thames and headed towards Southwark. From the bridge, the Consulate was visible. It wasn't that it was the tallest or most intriguing building along the river. The glassy spire that was The Shard had that privilege. It's angular sides stretched high into the sky, like a colossal spear trying to pierce the heavens. In comparison, the Consulate was rather nondescript. Its structure was in the traditional rectangular shape, built mostly of bricks and glass, and only standing higher than some of the older buildings in the area. It was the large crane stationed on the roof that really made it stand out.

Despite their depleting coffers, their new Chancellor was sparing no expense to erase the damage from Aizen's attack. Giving the building new updates and upgrades as they went. Rukia personally preferred consulates be more low-key. They didn't need people gawking at their buildings and drawing unwanted attention.

The surveillance van turned off the main road and pulled up to a heavy steel door at the base of the building. They waited a few seconds before the door lifted and granted them access to the parking garage below. The driver gave a wave to a camera mounted above the door and drove inside.

The garage was several levels deep. The first few levels were dedicated to parking, mostly for the human commuters who worked for the Council's more legitimate business. Once packed to capacity, now only a few cars were scattered about.

After the attack, the Council halted their business ventures until they could regain control of the territory and repair the facilities. With services suspended, there was no income, making them entirely reliant on their reserve funds. It took three months to contain Aizen's soldiers and deal with the mess they made. The minute Rukia informed the Chancellor the situation was within their control, construction on the business floors got the green light. Nearly four months into construction and they only had a handful of the floors functional. As each floor was completed, the councilors scrambled to fill the vacancies and stop the haemorrhaging of funds. They still had ten floors to go.

Below the commuter floors was a level dedicated to Council vehicles. Slick black sedans, vans, SUVs, and motorcycles were lined up row after row. Their location far beneath the building shielded them from the majority of the attack, much to the Council's relief. Lord knew how much money the Chancellor would have spent to replace every single one of them if they'd been damaged or destroyed.

At the end of the garage was a wall of glass doors leading into the basement levels of the Consulate. Elizabeth Taylor and her Alpha Team stood out front. They were still dressed in their gear, black from head to toe, but their weapons had been returned to the armory. Dr. Bell stood amongst them, looking like a Grecian sculpture clothed in white. Her dark hair was pulled into a tight ponytail, and she presented a severe glare that put even the toughest hunter in their place.

When the van stopped in front of the doors, Rukia hopped out and offered Ichigo a helping hand. He glared at it as if it had personally offended him and every member of his family.

"I think I can manage getting out of a van," he snarled.

"Of course you can," she replied flatly. Her eyes fell to the puddle of blood that had soaked the seat he'd been sitting in. He scowled in response and stepped out of the van. She waved the doctor over.

"Councilor Kuchiki. Agent Kurosaki." Dr. Bell greeted them with steely composure. Her brown eyes narrowed in on Ichigo. "It seems you ran into a bit of trouble."

"Can you inspect the wound?"

"It's a scratch," Ichigo stated. "It barely broke the skin."

Dr. Bell gave him a sharp look reminiscent of a mother challenging a petulant child. Rather impressive, considering she barely looked a day over 23. "If there was poison on the weapon, broken skin is all it would take."

Ichigo stiffened and Rukia gave a satisfied smirk.

"And what about you?" The doctor turned her frightening gaze on Rukia.

"I suffered a dislocated shoulder-"

The doctor's hands were immediately on her shoulder. She poked and prodded with the tips of her fingers, inspecting the joint. The only thing that hurt was her pride. A dislocated shoulder was a simple matter, but she didn't dare challenge the doctor. Unlike Ichigo, she knew what battles to fight.

Seemingly satisfied with her findings, the doctor gave her an approving nod and motioned for Ichigo to follow her. Ichigo didn't budge, sending Rukia a pleading look. She only shrugged and pointed for him to do as he was told. He gave her a pointed glare, flicked her off, and followed the doctor inside.

"With that much energy you know he isn't poisoned."

Elizabeth now stood beside her, watching in amusement as Ichigo trudged his way towards the infirmary.

"Don't tell him that. Do you know how difficult it is to get him to see a doctor?"

"Like all newly transformed, he probably thinks he's invincible. I was like that once."

Rukia studied her top team leader, mildly curious about the story that put such a thoughtful expression on her face. Elizabeth was a monster. Tall and well built, she was a forced to be reckoned with in the field. With her thirties years working as a Hunter she had an amazing track record, which led to her heading her own team in under ten years. Rukia hadn't known her then, but her file spoke for itself. It wasn't much of a surprise to hear she might have been foolhardy at one point in her life.

"Unlike you, I doubt he'll grow out of it."

"He certainly is stubborn."

Which is probably why she enjoyed riling him up every now and again. Sometimes he was simply too serious. And recently he'd been more broody than usual. It was more than likely due to his limited contact with his sisters. Their schedules and the time difference made it difficult to get in touch when the girls were awake or not in lessons. For their own safety, the twins couldn't contact Ichigo directly, e-mail and text messaging included. Everything was to go through Kisuke to ensure they spoke on a secure line.

The chances of Aizen retaining any interest in the Kurosaki family were limited, but she wasn't willing to risk it. It wore on Ichigo, but he didn't argue. Until they found and dealt with Aizen they couldn't give him any opportunity for leverage. She had hoped after so long they would have made some sort of progress, but they were still in the place as they were last year - nowhere.

"By the way, I have something for you." Rukia pulled out her phone and sent the Captain a grainy picture of their rogue. The alley had been dark, but there was enough light to give a hint of his appearance - dark hair, pale skin, and an eye patch.

"Aw, you shouldn't have." Elizabeth's phone beeped and she took a look. She frowned and evaluated the image more closely. "This our guy?"

"I believe so. The wounds on the girl he was feeding on are more severe than previous victims, but he might have just done that to get under our skin."

Elizabeth nodded. "The victim profile matches as well. The tech guys sent us information on the recent victim. Young, single woman, alone and drunk from a night out on the town. Apparently, she'd been out with friends, but left the bar they were at for some reason."

"Lone drunk girls are hardly surprising targets. Thankfully, the bodies have scared most of the women in town into pairing up."

"It'll still make it difficult to find him before he gets another girl."

Rukia sighed. The idea of someone else falling prey to this asshole was more than frustrating. Even worse, it would mean exposing Ichigo to a similar scene like tonight. It was difficult to get his shocked and pained expression out of her mind. He was still too new to their world to be accustomed to such sights of violence. Hell, it wasn't any easier for her. Most vampires favored clean attacks. Less mess, less fuss, and it usually kept hunters off their trails if they were breaking any laws. This bastard enjoyed the brutality of his assaults, the gore and misery they left behind.

"Leak his picture to every authority in London and the neighboring areas. Even if he isn't our rogue, he's someone we can't leave loose in the territory."

Elizabeth stared at her.

"Is there a problem?"

"Do you think that's a good idea? Getting the humans involved?"

It probably wasn't. Sending humans after a dangerous target would more than likely result in unnecessary bloodshed, but if they wanted to catch this guy quickly they would need all the help they could get. "They'll be our eyes and ears. We don't have enough of our own resources available to focus on this one guy while maintaining control on the rest of the territory. If we're lucky, they'll spot him but never manage to get close enough to risk themselves."

The doors to the Consulate opened and a middle-aged man in a suit hurried over to them. Rukia vaguely recalled he was a secretary.

"Councilor Kuchiki, the Chancellor is requesting your presence."

The last thing she wanted was to deal with his pompous ass after the night she'd had. "No thanks."

Her blatant rejection clearly shocked and upset the man. His mouth dropped open and he stuttered as he tried to comprehend what she'd said. All he could manage to do was look desperately to Elizabeth for assistance.

Showing the man some pity, Elizabeth tried her hand at convincing Rukia to go. "It's either now or later when he's more worked up you refused him. Let's not forget that he controls the purse strings."

That little reminder caused Rukia to crinkle her nose in annoyance. She made a valid point. The last thing she needed was for the Chancellor to start getting stingy with her budget. It was unlikely, considering her department dealt with the physical threats, and any further financial limitations would impact the safety of the territory, but it wouldn't stop him from at least making the threat. He could be such a child sometimes.

"Fine. I'll head up after I shower and change."

The secretary still looked worried. "He said it was a matter of some importance."

He flinched when she growled. She was tired, wet, and cold. All she asked for was 20 minutes to warm her bones and get clean dry clothes. Was that too much to ask for? Perhaps the Chancellor knew what state she was currently in and he was looking for a good laugh.

Bastard.

"I want that image out in the next hour," Rukia ordered over her shoulder as she marched towards the doors, imagining different ways to make the Chancellor pay for her current suffering.

When they entered the elevator, Rukia leaned against the wall and huffed in exasperation. Quietly, she continued to grumble about impatient assholes. With each curse, the assistant grew more uncomfortable, shifting to put as much distance between them as possible in the small compartment. She didn't care. There was no reason to have her rushing up to meet with him, no excuse to rob her of being warm and having clean clothes.

Unless. . .

Her heart hammered against her chest in anticipation. Maybe he had a lead on Aizen. If that was the case, she just might sing his praises and take back all the horrible things she thought about the man. Or, she halted in her tiny jubilation, maybe he wanted to talk about new drapes. Groaning, she rested her head on the wall. It was probably about drapes.

The pleasant chime of the elevator rang out as the doors opened. The long sterile hall leading to the Council Chambers and the Chancellor's personal quarters stretched out before her. Another redesign. She hated how bright it was, and now she despised how it echoed her every movement.

The thick material of her pants swished loudly as she walked, her shoes joining in chorus with the occasional squish. Embarrassment of being seen in such a haggard state quickly shifted to annoyance. By the time they arrived at the sleek double doors of the Council Chambers she was downright livid. If she didn't rip the Chancellor's head off by the time she left it would be a miracle.

Her frustration was enough that she nearly snapped at the secretary when he stood frozen in front of the doors, his hand raised to knock. If the Chancellor was expecting her, there was no reason the hesitate. And if she had to stay in these clothes a minute longer than necessary she would paint these white walls with red.

Then she heard the raised voices cut off by punctuated growls. Great, she thought with an audible groan. It wasn't just the Chancellor she would have to deal with, but the whole damn Council. And it sounded like they were in a grand mood. The poor secretary was scared stiff. If he interrupted whatever argument they were having it would be his head.

Feeling merciful, she tapped his shoulder and motioned for him to move aside. Relief washed over his features as he took several steps back and waited with bated breath as she opened the door.

"I've had enough of your shit, Henry!"

Rukia jerked her head back at the sharp pitch of Hiyori's voice as she railed.

"Look who's talking, Pip Squeak! You haven't stopped squawking since we got here!"

"What did you just call me?"

"You heard me. Unless you've gone deaf as well as dumb?"

"Why you- come here you overgrown, skinny son of a bitch! I'm going to rip all that pretty ginger hair out of your head and make a fucking hat!"

Hiyori stood atop her chair, poised to launch herself across the long conference table. Her hand was on her sword, her knuckles white as she gripped the hilt. Beneath her skin, her muscles twitched with anticipation. The focus of her ire appeared to be one of the new councilors, Henry Smith.

At only 90, Henry was one of the youngest councilors and was looking rather smug. He stood on the opposite side of the room, under the impression it was enough to keep him out of Hiyori's reach. A mistake on his part. Rumors of Hiyori's physical abuse and explosive anger were not exaggerated, and if he wasn't careful, he would find out just how accurate they were.

Lisa and Love stood on either side of Hiyori, prepared to pin her down to keep her from shedding blood. They didn't dare touch her unless she made her move, lest they find themselves the targets of her wrath as well.

Fights between councilors weren't uncommon. It was more the norm than civilized conversation. Most of the fights were verbal spats rather than anything physical. Meetings were often drawn to a close before swords were drawn. But considering it was Hiyori, and how aggravated she was at the moment, there was a chance someone was going to bleed tonight.

Maybe she could slip out and get that shower after all.

"Councilor Kuchiki, so good of you to join us."

Damn.

Rukia glared at Councilor Harrington, a scrappy strip of a man with braided graying hair, a pointed beard, and a hooked nose. He smiled, his wrinkled lips spreading over crooked, yellowing teeth. To an outsider, he might seem a friendly old man, eager to distract from the squabble, but she knew better. Behind his gleaming gray eyes she could see the gears twisting and turning, wondering how to use her to his advantage.

The room grew quiet and all eyes were on her. Any hope of escape was gone. Closing the door behind her, Rukia gathered her pride around her like an invisible cloak of armor.

"Councilors," she greeted, making her way toward the only empty chair. In the silence of the room, the sounds of her wet clothes were more audible. Somehow she managed to keep from cringing as she crossed the room and took a seat. Without a doubt, the expensive fabric on the chair was ruined.

"Did you forget your umbrella?"

Rukia narrowed her eyes at Rose. He looked legitimately curious, except for the almost imperceptible curve to the corner of his lips. Not for the first time, she considered cutting off all of his blonde hair while he slept.

"It had occurred to me to bring one, however, they tend to be rather cumbersome when doing field work," she quipped. Rose only looked amused. He was probably more concerned about her drab appearance than antagonizing her.

"You were in the field again?"

The simpering voice of Councilor Michaels had her flinching mentally. Of all the things she wanted to avoid, an argument regarding a councilor's level of involvement when it came to their duties and the risk to their safety as a result, was one of them. And she most certainly didn't want to get into that argument with Councilor Michaels.

The rotund vampire was studying her from across the table. His large, black, caterpillar eyebrows were furrowed in intense worry. His motives were hardly malicious. In fact, if he had his way, every councilor would be locked within the Consulate where they could all remain protected from any outside harm. Even Kaname's betrayal was blamed on external forces. According to Michaels, the past year could have been avoided if the councilors had remained indoors.

The root of his fear was the attack itself. Michaels had been severely injured in Kaname's escape, and he had watched several of his close friends cut down in front of him. The thought of suffering another assault terrified him and drove his desire to keep everyone safe. To some degree, she could understand his feelings. The thought of losing anyone close to her again was terrifying, but she wouldn't permit it to grab hold of her and lock her in place. Aizen couldn't be stopped from the safe confines of a building.

"I was."

As expected, Michaels paled, his jaw dropping in his astonishment. It fluttered as he tried to regain his voice and demand she stop such activity at once. She held up a hand to cut him off.

"I understand your stance on this matter, Councilor Michaels; however, my position does not allow for the luxury of working separately from my subordinates. Such detachment would only hinder our work. It's important they see me, speak with me, work with me; know and comprehend that I am willing to work in the trenches with them, and risk my own life for them and this Council. It promotes camaraderie and loyalty."

"Councilor Kuchiki," Harrington began slowly. He leaned forward, propping his elbows on the table and pressing his fingers together as if he was about to impart wisdom to his children. What she saw was a man threatened. Loyalty to one did not mean loyalty to the whole. Harrington read in her message that her hunters were loyal to her, not the Council - not to him. "Our roles within the Council are extremely important. It is vital we remain distant, so we might continue our work despite what happens outside these walls."

We are important. We must separate ourselves from those who are beneath us.

Rukia detested such notions that her position put her life above others, above Elizabeth and Dr. Bell, above Ichigo.

"For some of us, perhaps," she said, careful to say "us" and not "you". "When it comes to my department, however, creating such divides will only result in weakening the Council. My hunters are the first line of defense and I will use whatever means necessary to ensure they are as strong as possible. Of course, how you choose to run your own department is between you and the Chancellor. I would never presume to tell you how to manage your own people."

Harrington's eyes flashed at her defiance, but she would not yield. She would not retreat back into what was considered appropriate again. She would be guided by what she thought was right.

She kept her gaze level with Harrington. If he thought he could glower her into submission, he was sorely mistaken. Only her brother was capable of such a feat, and this man couldn't hold a candle to Byakuya Kuchiki.

"Exactly!" Hiyori cheered, grinning madly as if she'd won a rather lucrative bet. She was still standing on her chair, but her hand had finally released its stranglehold on her sword. A few of the councilors relaxed now that the threat of physical harm seemed to diminish.

"Hiyori, I don't think Councilor Kuchiki's point means you can continue to do whatever you want, how you want, to whomever you want," Love informed her stoically.

Hiyori's brown gaze snapped to Love and she snarled. "I don't wanna do all that bullshit. I just wanna do my job."

"Pretty sure punching the German Ambassador isn't doing your job."

Love's words were like being struck with a pail of ice water. She stared at Hiyori, flabbergasted.

"She had it coming!" Hiyori defended. "That bitch thought she could just use my guards like they were her personal servants! She had them fetching her food, drinks, and little stupid-ass souvenirs from across the city!"

Lisa huffed and pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose. "We agree the ambassador was out of line, but so were you."

She had only been dealing with these people for five minutes and she already wanted to kill them all. Pressing the space between her eyebrows, she prayed for relief - or a giant bottle of painkillers.

"If it's a matter of Hiyori having struck the Ambassador, I recommend she apologize to the Ambassador personally - and properly. Considering we are also working on displaying to the other councils we are not as weak as they imagine, I suggest the Chancellor meet with her himself and remind the Ambassador that while she is a guest, our people are not here for her personal use."

Daring to look up, Rukia was met with gazes of amusement, frustration, and agreement. Hiyori ground her teeth, clearly dissatisfied with the thought of apologizing. Henry was smiling smugly, as if he'd won Employee of the Year. Rukia hated giving the pretentious cod an excuse for feeling victorious, but Hiyori should have known better. She might look like a 14-year-old, but she had fifty years on Rukia. There was no excuse for her behavior. Well, Rukia amended mentally, there was. The thought of the Ambassador abusing her position and taking advantage of their hospitality was insulting at best, but there were better ways to deal with the woman.

Their current standing with the other councils was precarious. With a successful attack on the Consulate that decimated their numbers and resulted in the death of several councilors, their reputation had suffered heavy damage. Through hard work and perseverance in destroying Aizen's remaining forces in a short amount of time, they managed to regain some approval. Maintaining an appearance of wealth by continuing to rebuild and hire new employees - both human and vampire alike - helped as well.

But appearances only went so far. Diplomatic endeavors with other councils assisted in solidifying their mending reputation. To risk them was to risk losing favor entirely. If that happened, they would have more to worry about than a few rogues.

Rukia glanced towards the Chancellor. He would agree with her, but she needed him to verbally back her up, not just sit in his ridiculously large chair looking bored.

Chancellor Shinji continued to lean back in his chair casually, resting his feet disrespectfully on the table. The chair balanced on the back legs playfully, but he wasn't smiling. He received her message loud and clear.

"I agree with Councilor Kuchiki. A diplomatic route will be best for everyone involved. Especially you, Hiyori."

Hiyori pursed her lips and looked rebellious, but she didn't argue. As much as it annoyed her, Shinji's word was law now, and as the Councilor of Security, it wouldn't do to attack the man she was sworn to protect. Rukia imagined she would probably give him the cold shoulder for a few weeks and then a nice verbal lashing a few days following - nothing out of the norm.

"Shouldn't Councilor Sarugaki be punished for her assault on the Ambassador? To do otherwise may incite the Ambassador's anger."

Several people, including Rukia, shot Henry withering glares. The bright flare of anger in his eyes indicated his true intent - to see Hiyori torn down. Why they despised one another, Rukia wasn't sure, but she was hardly in the mood to deal with their petty feud.

Hiyori snapped. "Listen, you son of a bitch-"

The sharp sound of Shinji's chair hitting the travertine tile was like a gunshot. Everyone tensed as he leveled his gaze at Henry. The boy flinched away as if he'd been slapped.

"Hiyori will apologize to the Ambassador. That is all."

It was rare to see Shinji so severe. Mockery and sarcasm were his preferred dispositions, much to the frustration of the remaining elder councilors. He often took things in stride, going at his own pace. It seemed the role of Chancellor was finally taking its toll.

"Of course, Chancellor. I meant no disrespect."

Henry couldn't sit down fast enough, his face a bright cherry red as he ducked his head and tried to hide from the others. Rukia almost felt bad for him.

"If there are no other matters that need to be discussed, we will adjourn this meeting." He stood quickly and disappeared through the doors leading to his adjoining office, effectively dismissing everyone.

The others slowly got to their feet and began filing out of the room. At nearly four in the morning, they might try to get some sleep or finish paperwork before the day truly began. Rukia sat patiently in her chair, waiting for the others to leave so she might exit with some sort of dignity.

"Councilor Kuchiki."

Kensei, Shinji's personal guard, stood beside her. Immediately she knew she wasn't going to get her shower. She gave Kensei a pleading look. He quirked a white eyebrow, immune to what she had hoped were rather convincing puppy eyes.

She almost pouted. "I'm not getting out of this, am I?"

"I'm afraid not."

He motioned to the set of double doors stationed directly behind Shinji's chair, leading to his office. She would have dragged and shuffled her way towards the office in protest, had not every bone in her body been completely opposed to how it would appear. Decades of being with Byakuya had ingrained proper poise and posture into nearly every fiber of her being. Instead, she stuck her nose haughtily in the air and marched through the doors. Kensei had the courtesy to restrain his laughter as her shoes squelched along the way.

The Chancellor's office had floor to ceiling windows that looked out onto the River Thames and the London skyline, similar to what was in the Council Chambers. The view wasn't the same as the sharp graceful mountains she was used to, but the sight was stunning in its own way - especially at this time of night. The sky still dark, the lights of the buildings glistening like stairs. Their brilliance reflected in the water, creating a wavering mirror image. Unfortunately, in the Council Chambers such a view was often hidden away behind light blocking curtains. Heaven forbid they have something pleasant to look at while they argued with one another.

The rest of his office was rather plain in comparison. As much as it annoyed Rukia to see Shinji spending money on extravagant and unnecessary upgrades to the Consulate, she appreciated that none of the funds went into his own office. The walls were white and undecorated, the floor a simple dark wood, and the furniture reminiscent of the bland tastes of 90s offices. Kaname hadn't been interested in decorating, and Shinji chose to leave it as is.

With his back to the gorgeous view, Shinji sat at his desk, staring at the large pile of paperwork with utter despair. No matter how diligent he was, which was never, there was always a large stack of files covering his desk. She couldn't remember what color it was anymore.

Shinji broke his defeated gaze from his mountains of paperwork as soon as Kensei stepped outside the office and closed the doors.

"Would you like a towel? Or perhaps a hair dryer?" Rukia narrowed her eyes. Shinji shrugged. "Sorry. Couldn't help myself."

"I'm assuming you had your secretary drag me up here for a better reason than settling a diplomatic tiff."

"But you're so good at glaring people into submission."

She crossed her arms.

"Right. I wanted to ask you if you thought I should hang red drapes or blue?"

"Shinji, if you don't get to the point, I'm leaving and telling Harrington you wanted to praise him on the good work he's been doing."

Shinji gawked at her. "You wouldn't dare! He'll barge right in here and talk my ear off for hours!"

"Do I look like I'm joking?"

"Okay! Okay! Geez." He eyed her dubiously, wondering if she would be so cruel. "I wanted to ask you for a report on your investigation."

"Which one? The one I'm performing on the books or the secret one?"

Shinji leaned back in his chair. A loose spring whined. "Your Council reports are quite detailed. I'm pretty sure I know how many sugars you put in your tea last Tuesday. However, you other reports are rarely submitted with the same frequency, and often lack the same amount of detail."

That was because there wasn't much to report. Her secret investigation was running on a healthy budget, but limited resources and manpower. Specifically, it was made up of her and Ichigo alone. There wasn't a lot two of them could do, especially when they were performing two jobs.

Publically, the Council was focused on recovery. Retaliation would come after. But during that time, Aizen had free reign to do whatever he wanted. It couldn't be allowed, so Shinji established this secret effort focused on hunting the man down. Kaname had proven no one was immune to betrayal, so the number of people aware of the investigation was limited to those who had no reason to join Aizen. Who better than those who had lost the most to him?

"I can only report there has been limited activity, and the investigation has not been progressing as well I would like." She relaxed and allowed her annoyance to display on her features. "Since we've started, we've managed to identify only a few potential leads that might be working for Aizen, but without any help from the Hunters it's been difficult to detain them."

"You mean it's been difficult to take them alive."

She cringed. "They're very dedicated. When we do manage to find and capture them, they ingest some sort of poison that kills them by eating away at their insides. We've tried to search them before they consume it, but they trigger it too quickly. The best we can surmise is a packet hidden in the false tooth, and even then I'm not confident that's the case."

Shinji heaved a dramatic sigh and rubbed his face. "Why is it that, even on the run, the man continues to have control of the situation."

"He was always very good at planning and strategizing," she replied bitterly. How much thought and patience at gone into getting a hold of a single vial? His patience was one of his most dangerous weapons. It could be decades before he slipped up and gave them any opportunity to make progress. "I do have some good news, depending on how you interpret it."

"Oh?"

"You know the rogue that's been hunting here recently?"

Shinji pressed his lips into a thin line. "That little bastard has been the bane of my existence for the past few weeks." He then sat up in his chair excitedly. "Are you saying you caught him?"

"Maybe 'good news' wasn't the phrase I should have used," Rukia clarified. "He nailed Ichigo pretty good before escaping. I did get a picture of him. I have Elizabeth leaking it to London Police and other authorities in hopes that we can take advantage of their resources."

"Where _exactly_ was this good news of yours?" Shinji wondered in a dry tone.

"I'm pretty confident he's one of Aizen's."

Shinji didn't look impressed. "That's nice."

"I thought you would be interested in that."

"I'd be more interested if you had some way of capturing him alive so we could actually interrogate him."

"True," she admitted. It wasn't exactly a great lead, but at the moment it was all they had. Since they had stomped out the remainder of Aizen's forces a few months ago, the legitimate leads they got were few and far between. It was a shame the soldiers he had left behind were mindless, eating machines incapable of stringing two words together. That was why he had left them behind. They would wreak havoc and avoid giving away his plans if they were captured. Even if the chances of them getting any real information from the rogue were slim, she didn't have any other options.

"How's Kurosaki?"

"Depends on how amiable Dr. Bell is feeling."

"You managed to get him to go with her?"

She shrugged. "She mentioned the chance of poison, and that seemed to make him pretty willing to get checked out."

"And how is he in other regards?"

Rukia hesitated. Ichigo was the youngest vampire in the entire Council. Not only that, but he had suffered a great deal in the past year: being turned, losing his family, being exiled, they were bound to have an impact on him. Add to that the struggles of a newly turned vampire usually faces and anyone would be concerned for him. She certainly was. But Ichigo was hardworking and motivated. She didn't want him to be unfairly judged.

"He's. . . coping." It was the closest she could come to protecting Ichigo without outright lying to Shinji.

"Keeping a close eye on him?" Shinji didn't miss her evasion, but she appreciated he didn't call her out on it.

"Of course. If there were any real risk I would be sure to act on it. I'm responsible for him, for his current situation."

"The boy made his choice. It's not like you turned him without permission."

It was meant to comfort her, but she didn't see the point. She could see the self-hate in Ichigo's eyes, the anger every time he allowed himself to feel like a vampire. He might never say it aloud, but she knew he regretted the decision he made.

"I should have tried harder to make him understand the consequences of the decision he was making."

"It wouldn't have helped. Kurosaki was dead set on going after Aizen, and that hasn't changed. I bet if you asked him right now if he would change his mind, he would just scoff at you."

She wasn't entirely sure that was true, but then again, Ichigo's hatred for Aizen ran as deeply as her own. "I just wish he would confide in me more. There are nights when I can tell he's distracted, thinking about home. Other nights he's at full attention. And then others-"

She clamped her mouth shut.

"Others. . . ?" Shinji enquired delicately.

Ichigo tried to hide it, but even a blind man would be able to see he struggled to suppress the beast within. Every now and then she could see the hunger clouding his vision, bloodlust looming near the surface and testing the reigns of his control. They were always quick, fleeting moments of weakness, but they were there.

It wasn't unnatural for turned vampires to struggle with their inner beasts even decades after they had awakened from the Rage. But with Ichigo's temperament, he found it frustrating and unacceptable.

On several occasions she tried to get him to talk to her about it, so she could provide him proper council, but he would either snap at her or shut her out complete. It was an aggravating habit of his. He didn't want anyone to see his inability and question his capabilities. And she couldn't give him any guarantees that it would pass.

Ichigo's transformation had been anything but normal. Using Kisuke's new transition technique, Ichigo had skipped over the natural process of the Rage. For only a few seconds, he had succumbed to his instincts and then he was fine - as if nothing had ever happened. A month's worth of progress done in an instant. It was unheard of. The side effects of this new method were unknown. What impact would there be for distorting the natural order of things? Did it make him more susceptible to the beast's influence? Did it risk his sanity? Would he suffer the Rage in a different way?

These were all questions she'd been asking herself for months, and she was no closer to an answer now than she had been then. And neither was Kisuke.

As much as she wanted to protect Ichigo from the judgment of the others, she felt it was her duty - to herself and him - to inform Shinji of the risks. Unlike Harrington, she knew he wouldn't act unless forced to.

"There are signs the beast is lurking just beneath the surface."

Shinji looked unfazed. "That's not unusual."

"I know. I'm hoping I'm being paranoid. Either way, Ichigo has a habit of holding himself to a certain standard. I'm concerned if he continues to keep to himself he'll only make things worse."

Shinji leaned further back in his chair, a sly grin spreading across his lips. "I wouldn't' say he's bottling it up."

"What do you mean?"

"I've had several complaints from other employees. During sparring sessions, there have been quite a few reports of reckless behavior and injuries - mostly on the opponent's side."

Rukia rolled her eyes. "Taking it out on his sparring partners is hardly dealing with the problem."

"No, but it certainly helps Kurosaki relieve himself of built up tensions. It also puts the other employees in line and strengths both your reputations. It's quite a blow to their egos to be defeated by the youngest member of the Council, but ensures that he wasn't put his position because of his connections."

Rukia huffed in disapproval, but Shinji continued.

"My point is, although he may not be talking to you directly, he _is_ taking care of it in his own way."

She hesitated to agree with him. "I suppose so."

"Are you concerned he's a danger to the team? To the populace?"

Ichigo's hatred for their race was strong. Vampires had taken everything from him: his father, his sisters, his entire life. The only reason he became a vampire himself was to gain the ability to fight the man at the center of it all and to be there for his sisters. The idea of feeding on people disgusted him. Even after all this time he still complained about drinking donated blood from the Harvest Chambers.

After all this time would he finally crack under the temptation and desire to drink directly from a human?

"No," she said, answering her own question out loud. "Ichigo would cut off his own arm before drinking from a human."

"Then it sounds like it shouldn't be a problem. Keep an eye on him, if you'd like, but I think with time he'll normalize just like any other newborn."

"If that's it," Rukia turned to leave, feeling the sudden need to check up on Ichigo. Shinji stopped her.

"How are your other endeavors going?"

She stood in front of the door. The last thing she wanted to talk about was _that_.

"I've heard there have been. . . issues."

She couldn't help but laugh and turned to see him watching her curiously. "Is that how it's being described?

"If you have a better way of interpreting frozen pipes encased in an inch of ice in the middle of summer, I'm all ears."

She winced. "An inch?"

His long lips spread into an amused grin. "It may have been two."

With a sigh, she decided it would be best to give him all the information she had on her "abilities".

"As you can tell by the state of the pipes, my attempts to master my powers have been unsuccessful at best. I have no control over them. I can't summon them when I desire, let alone determine their strength or potency. They choose to act how and when they want." She gave a sharp laugh of bitterness. "I'm pretty sure I got a bird the other day."

"Pigeons are a nuisance anyway," he waved his hand dismissively. If only she could take her failures in such stride.

"It was a crow. From several miles above me. It's in several pieces on the roof."

The corner of Shinji's nose curled slightly. "Lovely."

"Sure, if your favorite decorating style is frozen avian bits."

He groaned and slouched in his chair. "Guess I'll have to prepare a list of excuses for the other councilors. Keeping your new found abilities secret is not an easy task. Maybe I'll look into setting up an area outside the city where it might be easier to conceal your training."

It wasn't a bad idea. Every time she failed in making progress they risked her being discovered. Not many people had seen Rukia conjure a pillar of ice and freeze Kaname. Those who had were sworn to secrecy. It was their loyalty to Shinji that guaranteed he didn't silence them permanently. If word about her new found talents was to get out, there was no telling what kind of trouble it would cause. Other councils might perceive the British Council as a threat and demand either her imprisonment or execution to ensure she couldn't be used against them. Others would demand research to be performed. No one in the history of their race had such abilities. They would want to know more. And a few might try to sell her.

Shinji, thankfully had no interest in locking her up or auction her off. It would be naive to think he wasn't interested in using her powers to the Council's advantage, but he felt it would be more beneficial if Rukia did it of her own free will. Power achieved through desire was more effective than power achieved through force.

He let Rukia analyze herself, test her own limits. She was just as curious and determined to figure out this new power. Although they never said it out loud, both of them believed the answer to defeating Aizen rested with the blood of the First that now coursed through her veins. It seemed to grant unimaginable healing - perhaps it could also provide a way to circumvent them. Of course, that meant Aizen had access to similar abilities. It was a race to see who could gain control and attack first.

Rooting around in his desk drawer, Shinji pulled out a bottle of Scotch and a glass. He poured it liberally before setting it down with a heavy thud. "I'll be optimistic. Maybe I'll get back from this meeting with the other chancellors I've got coming up, and someone will have killed Aizen for us, the remaining Elders will have mysteriously croaked in their sleep, and everything will be rainbows and sunshine."

"That glass doesn't scream optimism."

"It will when I'm through with the bottle."

* * *

 **AN:** I know things are a little slow going in the story right now. Lots of introduction / re-introduction to our characters and their situation. Things should start picking up soon.

I want thank those who favorited and followed the story, and a guest who left an amazing review after finishing up For Blood. I'm glad you enjoyed the story and are looking forward to more!

Thanks again to everyone for reading! Happy belated Christmas and have a great New Year!


	4. Chapter Three

**Author's Soundtrack:**  
5AM - Amber Run

* * *

 **Chapter Three**

* * *

The digital clock on the oven read 5:00 a.m. as Rukia opened the door to her darkened suit. The bright green letters cast the sparsely decorated room in an eerie glow. She found it soothing compared to the harsh florescent lights of the Council Chambers and the hallways. The throbbing of her head eased as she closed the door and let the darkness surround her.

She headed straight for her room, only one thing on her mind. As soon as the door was closed, she stripped off her clothes. She baulked at the disgusting way the wet material peeled away from her skin. Tossing everything in the laundry basket, she made a beeline for the shower and turned the faucet to "Hot". Steam quickly filled the small bathroom, fogging the large mirror over the sink and the clear glass panels of the shower door. The water seared her skin as she stepped under it, burning away the layers of pollutants coating her body. The stress and tension released their stranglehold on her muscles and she began to feel her muscles relax. Leaning against the wall of the shower, she let the water eat away at her until she began to feel somewhat normal again.

After a half an hour she was forced to turn the water off. Her skin was beginning to prune and turn a violent shade of red. Worse, her head felt light and her vision skewed slightly. The last thing she needed was to pass out in her own shower. She'd suffered enough embarrassment in one night to last her another couple years. She would never hear the end of it if someone found her naked and unconscious on the bathroom floor.

Water dripped off her as she stepped out of the shower. Wiping the condensation from the mirror, she examined the distorted face that gazed back at her. The makeup she's applied had washed away, revealing dark circles etched beneath her eyes, evidence of her troubled sleep. Even after so many months, she was still plagued by blood-soaked nightmares. Was it too much to ask for a solid night of sleep every once and awhile?

Taking a deep breath, she sighed heavily and abandoned the mirror. Reaching for a towel from the rack, she dried herself and padded into the bedroom.

The bed mocked her. The soft white sheets beckoned to her like a siren's song. It was tempting, to slip beneath the soft folds and close her heavy eyes, but it was a trick. She would be awake in an hour. Instead, she would do something productive. A month's worth of paperwork was waiting for her. If she put her tired mind to it, she could put a nice dent in it before the rest of the Consulate was awake.

Not bothering with the pretence of dressing in the Council approved slacks and button down shirt, Rukia slipped into a pair of jeans and a tank top. If she was going to suffer through the slog of Council red tape, she would be comfortable.

Heading back into the main living area, Rukia turned into the kitchen to grab something to drink while she worked.

Designed to provide councilors and their personal guards with everything they could possible need, the open concept councilor suites were equipped with a fully stocked kitchen, living room, and two bedrooms - each with their own bathroom. The living room and bedrooms were minimally furnished with the basics. Although Shinji had been kind enough to splurge on comfortable mattresses, sofas, and an entertainment centre with a large flat screen TV.

Councilors were expected to live and work in the Consulate, an entirely different approach than the Japanese Council who allowed members to reside in their own homes. She had never been clear on the reasoning and often yearned for a place to call her own. The accounts Byakuya had secured for her would allow for her independence, but she had a workable deal with Shinji at the moment. It was difficult enough, trying to hunt Aizen. If she attempted to do so on her own, there would most certainly be no progress.

While a bag of blood warmed in the microwave, Rukia prepared a small snack to offset her grumbling stomach. It had been a few days since she last had anything of real substance. As she sliced an apple into several pieces, she noticed a dirty mug sitting in the sink. Blood lined the rim. Huffing in exasperation, Rukia set aside the knife and rinsed the mug out.

Was she his mother? Couldn't he clean up after himself? Glaring bitterly towards Ichigo's room, she noticed his door was ajar and the lights were on. She turned off the water and listened. His breath was slow with sleep. Her irritation bubbled to the surface. Why should he get a full night's rest when she was cursed to remain awake?

Marching towards his room, she pushed the door open and entered with a lecture on her lips. Like her own room, his was unmarked with anything personal, and the small desk in the corner was covered in paperwork. Ichigo was sprawled across his bed. He wore nothing but a pair of black slacks. His torso was bare, displaying his sculpted physique and the clean white medical bandages wrapped meticulously around his ribs.

An empty bottle sat on the edge of the desk. Rukia could make out the messy writing of Dr. Bell, with instructions on taking the medication with 2 bags of blood. The blade must have been poisoned after all. Her wave of irritation dissipated.

Feeling deflated, and a little guilty, she turned to leave. An open case file clutched tightly in his hand caught her attention and pulled her back. Curious, she quietly approached the bed to try and get a better look at the file. A picture of his two sisters smiling happily with Yoruichi and Kisuke was stapled to the top sheet. A lengthy report was scrawled out on several sheets of paper, more than likely containing an in-depth report of Yuzu and Karin Kurosaki's health and well-being. Pity overwhelmed her.

She studied his face. Normally contorted into a scowl, it was nice to see his features almost serene, revealing his youthful age. Barely old enough to be considered an adult, and he had already suffered through so much. Leaving everything behind and being dragged into her dark and dangerous world - and here she was, mad at him for leaving a dirty glass in the sink.

Without thinking, she reached out and gently caressed his cheek. He wouldn't look a day over 25 for another two centuries - if he survived that long. Her heart ached at the thought of having ruined another life.

Quietly, he inhaled sharply and shivered. A small puff of breath floated through the air. Rukia ripped her hand away and took a step back. A thin layer of frost coated the taupe colored walls and the thermostat on the wall read 7°C. She scoffed at her useless powers and turned to leave before she somehow managed to make it snow.

Hands grabbed her shoulders and pulled her back. She spun and was suddenly staring up at the ceiling, the soft cushion of the bed pressing into her back. Her hands were pinned to the mattress above her head, and a heavy weight settled over her hips. The spicy scent of cinnamon and sandalwood saturated her senses, and a pair of bright amber eyes peered down at her. Her heart pounded against her chest and her breath caught in her throat. With the light behind him, his bright orange hair looked almost black. His eyes were full of a familiar intensity, calling to something deeper within her, stirring emotions and sensations she thought long dead.

But it wasn't Kaien who looked down at her. It wasn't Ichigo either. What studied her with such a scorching gaze was something else entirely. Ichigo's abilities were quite impressive. He moved with a speed she couldn't match, but he was clumsy, always focusing on how quickly he could get to a place rather than how quietly. She should have heard him get off the bed and approach her. Only when he wasn't in control, when the beast had taken over, was he able to act with his full potential. Unlike Ichigo, it wasn't restrained by his humanity and constant habit of overthinking. It acted purely on instinct.

She had been worried about the potential impact the beast might have on Ichigo, but she never imagined it would actually take possession of him. From her understanding, the constant struggle for dominance between the newborn and the beast was common. The stronger persona was determined during the Rage. If the beast won, chaos and disaster would follow in its wake - like Kaien. If not, then the person awoke as themselves.

Ichigo didn't go through the full Rage. It had been brief, like a flash of lightning. In that moment, the dominant personality had not been determined, and now they were fighting for domination.

She needed Ichigo to regain control and hold it. If the beast took full possession and never relinquished control, the results could be twice as devastating as if he had lost himself to the Rage in the first place. And if the Council found out he was too far gone, they would deal with him immediately. She refused to lose him and would use whatever means necessary to bring him back, even if that meant attempting to negotiate with a creature that wasn't associated with diplomacy.

"What exactly is it you plan to do now that you have control of his body?" She wasn't even sure it was capable of speech. Beasts were savage, like feral animals. If talking failed, she could try to find an opening and gain the upper hand. Of course, she needed to make sure it didn't kill her first.

To show she wasn't afraid, giving it another reason to attack her, she lifted her chin slightly and exposed her neck. The skin at the base tingled in remembrance, but she ignored it.

It tilted Ichigo's head to the side as if he were a dog hearing an intriguing noise for the first time. The gesture might have been amusing - cute even - if it wasn't so dangerous.

"A bit of advice," she continued, "it's best if you leave him in full control. Like this, you'll only get the both of you killed."

It growled, bearing Ichigo's teeth at the perceived threat. She rolled her eyes casually.

"No need to get defensive. It's nothing against you personally. If you have possession and the hunters spot you, they will think Ichigo has lost complete control. The Council doesn't like it when one of their own becomes a liability. You would be their number one target, and dead before you got to the main floor."

His lips fell back into place as it considered her words. It was just the moment's hesitation she needed. With all her strength, she popped her knee between his legs and heaved her entire body up and to the side, pitching him over. Using the moment, she straddled him and pulled a small knife from her back pocket, and pressed it into his throat. All resistance was halted.

"Did I forget to mention I'm a hunter?"

To make her point, she put more weight behind the small blade. It hissed and tried to move away from the sharp edge, hands reaching to restrain her. She pushed the knife closer to his throat and it stopped struggling.

"I suggest you slip back into the dark little hole of Ichigo's subconscious you came from and stay there. No more taking possession of him while he's sleeping, or feeling hungry, or any other time you think there's an opportunity for you to come out. You'll stop this nonsense and leave him be. Got it?"

It seemed the beast preferred dominant females. Her eyes widened when she felt something swell and throb against her. "Oh for the love of - you have got to be kidding me! Do you really think you're in the best situation to be thinking about mating?"

It leered at her. "You're better off with me in control. He's weak. At least with me in charge, I can take care of you." Her surprise at hearing him speak left her unguarded, and he gripped her hips, pulling her down as he thrust upwards. His swollen length pressed into her, sending a staggering wave of pleasure crashing over her. She clenched her jaw to quiet the gasp that threatened to escape, and quickly suppressed her own instincts. This was her mind game, not his. Showing she was still in charge, she pressed the knife into his throat. He stilled his ministrations and released his hold on her.

"I can take care of myself just fine." Her voice was uncontrollably husky, her mind clouded with a sensual haze and her body aching. She hated the effect this creature managed to have on her. This wasn't Kaien. This wasn't Ichigo.

It smirked. "You sure about that?"

Curling her nose, Rukia slid the knife across his throat, this time drawing blood. The smirk fell from his lips. "Let him go. Now."

"Or what? You'll cut me with your little knife?" He laughed. It was an unnatural, eerie sound that set her teeth on edge. "You don't have it in you."

Rukia set her jaw and leaned in close, sliding the knife a little further along his throat. Just one more inch and she would reach his jugular. It inhaled sharply and stilled.

"Let me give you a little insight into what I have in me. I transformed my husband of ten years into a vampire, and when he lost control and wiped out his entire family, I killed him with my own two hands. I cut off his head and stared into his vacant eyes as the immortal life I had given him faded away." She swallowed the tight lump in her throat, fighting the memories that surged to the surface. "Do you really think I can kill the one man in my life I truly loved and won't be able to deal with a whelp I've only known for a year?"

It was silent as it stared into her eyes, trying to gauge her determination. After a moment, it clicked his tongue and sighed. "I'll let go - for now. But if this brat continues to be weak and unsteady, I won't hesitate to take back the reigns. I'm not going to let this body go to waste because he doesn't know how to use it."

"I'll keep that in mind. Now leave."

"What, no goodbye fuck?"

Scoffing in disgust, Rukia struck him across the temple with the butt of her knife. She was almost satisfied watching his head fall back on the mattress, if not for the fact that Ichigo was going to be the one waking up with one hell of a headache. At least he would wake up.

Shaking off the strange hum that streamed through her body, Rukia climbed off Ichigo and headed for the door. She stopped short, glancing back to eye his unconscious form. She didn't think it would be that easy to deal with a beast that had taken governance of a body. It would be naive to think it would keep its word, but she had little choice in the matter. Trust it or kill him. The creature might be convinced she could do it - that was all that mattered - but she wasn't so sure. To ensure she wouldn't have to consider the decision in the future, she would start up his training again. Sparring sessions may have helped to some degree, but they needed to step up their game.

Turning off Ichigo's bedroom light, and turning up the thermostat to help erase her little mess, Rukia returned to the living area. She made it to the kitchen before her legs gave way beneath her. Her body still thrummed with unexpected pleasure, her skin aching to be touched. It was vexing to admit the damn thing had gotten to her - in more ways than one. How long had it been since she'd been with someone? Four decades? Five? Admittedly, that was quite a while, but to have such a single thing bring her to her knees? Pathetic.

The microwave chimed loudly, reminding her she had blood waiting for her. Testing her legs, Rukia made her way across the room. Grabbing the clean mug from the sink, she hastily poured the blood and downed it. Warmth spread through her body and she felt some of her strength return. Work was beginning to look considerably more tempting. Nothing to kill sexual desires like paperwork. Taking her sliced apple into the living room, she settled on the couch. Plucking her laptop from the coffee table, she set it on her lap and began the tedious task of filing mission reports and filling out request forms.

As she predicted, explaining every last, minute detail of her ridiculous and obnoxious night successfully distracted her. But after a couple of hours of complete silence, she was aching for something more entertaining. She turned on the TV and lowered the volume until it was barely audible. No sense in risking waking Ichigo up sooner than necessary.

A news reporter was in the field, somewhere in downtown London. Police lights flashed behind her as she spoke into her oversized microphone. The words "Breaking News" flashed on the bottom of the screen. Two men pulled a gurney out of an alley, a black plastic bag set atop.

" _Were the police able to find any more information about who might be doing this?"_ Asked the disembodied voice of the news anchor.

The reporter shook her head mournfully. " _I'm afraid not, John. while the police have yet to give an official statement, a few sources say that, like the other attacks, there has been little evidence that might point them towards a suspect."_

" _Is this guy that good?"_

" _Not necessarily. It seems as though he chooses these locations specifically. There is a lot of foot traffic in and around these locations, making it difficult for investigators to decipher what evidence is pertinent to the case and what isn't. This is why they're searching desperately for any witnesses who might know anything about this girl and the tragic events that lead to her death."_

A photograph of a woman filled the screen. She looked different, smiling with joy as the sun lit up her face. It was a shame they hadn't been able to save her life. Perhaps if it hadn't been raining, they might have picked up her scent sooner and gotten to her in time.

"Wait," she muttered aloud, her brows furrowing. They shouldn't have found her body at all. A clean up crew should have been sent to the site to deal with the corpse before anyone managed to stumble on the scene.

Rukia was on her phone in an instant.

" _Harry Houdini, making all your crime scenes disappear like magic!"_

The need to slap her forehead was strong. "Harry, this is Councilor Kuchiki."

" _Oh! Uh. . . sorry about that sir - ma'am - Councilor. Just a little joke-"_

"Harry, please explain to me why I'm seeing the body of the victim from tonight's attack on the news."

" _Yeah, about that," he began hesitantly. "You see, we got the call from Captain Taylor, but when we got to the location the police were already swarming the place. We couldn't get near the body even if we tried."_

Pinching the bridge of her nose, she attempted to ease the pain of a returning headache. Finding another body was only going to make the humans more anxious. There would be an outcry for more security and results. It was an understandable reaction, but it would make it more difficult for her teams to track and capture their rogue without interference. Sharing the picture might have been a mistake. They would no longer approach this guy with caution, but all out aggression.

" _I'm sorry, Councilor. I should have informed you immediately, but I figured with the late hour it could wait until a little later in the day."_

Guilt prodded her. Harry was a good man who enjoyed his job and was almost magical in the way he managed to make evidence evaporate into thin air.

"It's fine, Harry. We'll handle it. Thank you for letting me know."

" _Have a good night - morning, Councilor."_

Groaning at her misfortune, she leaned her head back against the couch. Then she called Elizabeth.

" _Taylor."_

"Captain, this is Councilor Kuchiki. I apologize for waking you." Although the woman sounded like she'd been cleaning her weapons instead of getting sleep.

" _Not at all ma'am. What can I do for you?"_

"I wanted to inform you that the body from last night was discovered before Harry could get to it."

" _Lovely. I'll inform my team and let them know to be cautious of vigilantes and a more determined police force. It was good you called. I got a lead a few minutes ago with a response from the leaked photograph."_

"Oh? That was rather fast. Even with the body acting as another motivator, I didn't expect any results for another day at least."

" _It appears Interpol has been looking for this guy for a while. His name is Nnoitra Gilga. He's known for his high-profile thefts. Originally from Spain, he's stolen several million Pounds worth of paintings from across the world. That is, until he went missing a few months back."_

"That's a lot more than we knew before." If they could get a glimpse into his history, they might be able to find a pattern of behavior and predict the next attack. There was a chance they could come up dry, but it was better than nothing. And his potential connection to Aizen made her all the more motivated to capture him.

" _Would you like me to put together a revised plan for his capture? I believe we could have something ready before the end of the week."_

As much as she wanted to get that man off her streets, they needed to tread carefully. If he did have ties to Aizen they needed to make sure they took every precaution. The last thing she wanted was to kill him on accident or have him killing himself before he talked. Connections to Aizen were rare. If they lost this lead there was no guarantee they would be able to find another anytime soon.

"Not quite yet," she said. "After tonight, he knows we're on to him. He'll be extremely cautious. Any hint of a trap and we could lose him for good. I don't want to risk this bastard getting loose and causing more trouble for someone else. We'll be patient, taking our time planning, and wait for the right moment."

" _You sound confident he hasn't fled the territory already."_

"There's a chance of that, but I don't think his ego will let him. He wants to taunt us. Until things get too dangerous, he'll stick around and cause as much damage as possible."

" _Very well. Have a good morning, ma'am."_

Hanging up the phone, Rukia stared at the TV. The weatherman was predicting another week of spotty rain and near constant cloud cover. There was shifting in Ichigo's room, and her eyes darted to the door. Part of her wasn't entirely convinced the beast would keep itself in check. She'd never made a deal with one - never spoken with one. Were they honorable? Did they even know the meaning of the word? Should she consider the alternative? Was she capable of taking another life that was dear to her? In the grand scheme of things, their relationship was but a brief spark in the long span of her life, but it was brilliant and scorching like the sun. Could she smother it?

A painful lump formed in between her lungs, constricting her breathing. The room was suffocating, the walls drawing closer and boxing her in. She needed fresh air, a change of scenery. She gathered her things in a hurry and rushed out of the suite.

* * *

As much as she criticised Shinji about his spending habits, he had given her an impressive budget to run her secret investigation. How he managed to hide it from the other councilors was beyond her, but she wasn't going to argue. Every pence was needed to help keep them off the grid and make up for the lack of Council resources. A small fraction of the budget went towards a safe house where Rukia and Ichigo could work without the prying eyes of the Council and store their findings. They'd settled on a recently updated flat near Tower Bridge Rd. not too far from the Consulate itself so that short trips wouldn't draw unwanted attention.

The flat wasn't terribly impressive. It had an open concept layout - all the rage this century it seemed - and was located near the Underground. She'd spent little on furniture, preferring to sink her costs into equipment and research that would help them locate Aizen rather than their personal comfort.

Affixed to an exposed brick wall was a large map of the world. Bright pieces of orange string created a messy web leading from one colored pin to another. The pins were shoved into specific locations with hurried notes and blurry images fastened to the spaces next to them. There was six months worth of information and research on that wall, and as she stared at it from the doorway, she was reminded of how little progress they had truly made.

Heaving a tired sigh, Rukia shut the door. She set her work bag on the couch and pulled Nnoitra's picture from one of the pockets. Grabbing a new pin from a small tray of them, she pushed it into London and taped Nnoitra's photo next to it. She pulled a sticky note from the side table and jotted down a few notes - name, previous profession, when he appeared in London, and a few other details - and stuck it next to his picture. It was just another image among many. Another vampire with a potential connection to Aizen. Another piece of the massive and complicated puzzle. Another loose end. She took a step back and studied the map, hoping for a miraculous revelation.

There was nothing, only more questions.

All around the world, there were whispers and hints of Aizen and his influence. Rarely was there a sighting. They tracked them, studied them, listening for any indication that he might finally be within their reach.

A blurry picture from a Miami nightclub hinted at a familiar figure. Wherever she was, a trail of missing persons and corpses followed. There was no proof, but Rukia was convinced she travelled with Aizen. Whenever Halibel appeared, those whispers followed.

The first picture they got of her had Ichigo railing. He was on the phone with Kisuke in a matter of seconds, demanding to know how Halibel had managed to get free and why he'd failed to tell him. Kisuke had taken the verbal assault in stride, explaining the situation to him in vague and elusive descriptions, leaving Ichigo in a worse mood than when he'd first called. Kisuke had guaranteed his sisters' safety. They had all been away from the house during the escape, and Halibel wasted no time getting out of Japan.

Rukia hadn't said anything at the time, but Halibel's escape was a testament to her intelligence and ingenuity. The prison in Kisuke's basement had been designed and built by him. Breaking out would not have been easy. And though Kisuke laughed off the incident, she knew deep down he was furious with himself and already working on modifications.

It had also revealed a connection between Halibel and Aizen they hadn't known before. When she'd first been captured, they thought her role was minimal - a glorified babysitter at the most. Now she was travelling with him, working with him. Had they misjudged her involvement from the beginning? What role did she really play?

And where did Nnoitra fit in with all of this? Was he a part of Aizen's plans? He hardly seemed the type to submit to the will and command of another. Was he moving on his own or was he taking orders? Or maybe he had broken free of his leash and was enjoying his new found freedom.

There were simply too many questions and not enough answers. She needed more data. Turning away from the wall, she pulled her laptop from her bag and sat on the couch. First, she would look into Nnoitra's past. Elizabeth said he was wanted by Interpol, which meant they had records, which wouldn't be difficult for her to access. And, considering he was the flashy sort, it made her search all the easier.

Within half an hour she discovered quite a bit of information on her rogue. Born in Spain, he committed his first crime at 14 - a painting from a small museum. He got busted, but saw it as a challenge and began perfecting his methods. By age 25 he was on Interpol's list, wanted for the theft of a dozen high-priced art pieces. For years he stole from millionaires and museums alike, leaving mocking messages for his victims and pursuers. Then he disappeared a few months ago. The thefts simply stopped. Through pure luck, she managed to find him in a small prison in Greece. The police there failed to log the proper paperwork and he disappeared into the system until his escape.

Judging by the prison medical work and reports from the facility, Nnoitra hadn't been a vampire before his arrest. There had been no lethal attacks, no violence to draw blood. He would have starved otherwise. There was a chance he had a hookup, but it was unlikely. The reports expressed the confusion of the prison guards when Nnoitra broke out. There had been no signs of preparation, no trace of his route. It was if he simply vanished. He was a good thief, but was he good enough to escape without leaving any evidence?

No. He was a proud man who loved to boast about his accomplishments. No calling card had been left and the high-profile thefts didn't continue. There was no real evidence to point to Aizen's involvement, but a churning in her gut told her he was behind the prison break. But why Nnoitra? Why go through the effort to grab someone like him? And, were there more like him?

Rukia scoured criminal databases in areas where she was convinced Aizen had been, searching for criminals who fell off the grid or went missing over the past year. She came up with very little, but not with nothing. There were at least 3 other cases where criminals had gone missing around the time Aizen was present. Logging into the Council network, she then scanned the list of rogues captured or hunted in the past year.

Nothing.

Maybe Nnoitra was just playing with her mind. Maybe he made it out of prison on his own and was turned by a vampire on accident. During his travels, he could have easily heard about what transpired in Japan. Given his aptitude for manipulation and mockery, he might have used the information to get under her skin. Meaning there was no connection to Aizen at all.

Feeling defeated and exhausted, Rukia caved to her body's needs and fell asleep on the couch amongst a pile of sticky notes.

When she woke up, she found a blanket draped over her. The afternoon sun glared down at her through the large windows. Sitting up, she studied Ichigo's broad back as he finished pinning one of her latest notes to the wall. The muscles in his hand tensed as he pushed the pin into place. Unwillingly, she recalled the feeling of those fingers gripping her hips, the pressure of his body against hers, his heated desire mingling with her own. Clicking her tongue in disapproval, she buried the thoughts and stood. Ichigo turned and gave her a quizzical look.

"When did you get here?" She asked, ignoring his questioning gaze. She tossed the blanket on the couch and stretched her arms above her head. The stiff muscles ached pleasantly as she relieved some of the tension in her lower back.

"About an hour ago. I tried waking you up, but you were out cold. I figured I'd let you sleep for a bit longer. Updated the board, I see."

She joined him at the wall, reviewing her notes to refresh her memory and keep her inappropriate thoughts at bay. She could feel his eyes on her and it wasn't helping.

"With a bunch of guesses more than solid evidence."

"Better than nothing."

He continued to stare at her and it was beginning to grate on her nerves. Couldn't he keep his eyes to himself?

"What?" She finally snapped, glaring at him.

He didn't look bothered. "You okay?"

"I'm fine," she huffed, her anger quickly extinguished by his concern. She didn't particularly like when he could read her moods. It made it difficult to hide things. "I'm just frustrated with the lack of progress is all. What about you?" She glanced at his throat and saw the small incision she made was gone.

"Yeah, I'm fine." Then he frowned. "Although, I woke up with a bitch of a headache. I think it's the meds the doc gave me, which, by the way, she was right. Apparently, that dick had some kind of poison on his sword. Nothing serious, according to the doc, just something that slows healing. The pills she gave me should help neutralize it. I should be good in another day."

"And I imagine she told you to rest during that day."

"She might have said something of the sort."

Judging by his lack of concern, it was likely he was going to ignore Dr. Bell's orders. Normally she might have found a way to keep him from making the damage worse, but since they weren't going after Nnoitra for a bit, and they had no active cases at the moment, the risks would be low. It just meant her plans for his training would be put on the back burner. Two days wasn't a terrible delay, and it was unlikely that little bastard would show its face in that short amount of time.

A phone began ringing from its place on the kitchen counter. Her own phone was still tucked in her back pocket. It was the second phone Shinji had given her, a secret line that connected her with all of the resources she could use safely while running the investigation. He didn't have many, but those he did have were quite good at their jobs and keeping off the Council's radar.

She grabbed it and answered before it could go to voicemail.

"Kuchiki."

" _Ms. Kuchiki, this is Doctor Sarah Collins from the Southwark Coroner's Court."_

Dr. Collins was a forensic pathologist for the Inner South area of London. Rukia wasn't sure how she knew Shinji, but the connection had worked out rather well for her. Even though she was human, Dr. Collins was very good at identifying and understanding vampire anatomy and physiology. The Council had tried to recruit her out of college a few years ago, but she had no interest working for a private company. She wanted to do her work for the people of London, which is probably how Shinji had gotten his hooks into her. What better way to protect her people than by getting insight into the secret society that lived in the shadows alongside them?

Despite their limited interactions, Rukia liked her. She was smart, observant, and concise. She wasted little time with pleasantries and made sure the information she provided was accurate.

"Good -" Rukia saw the stove clock read 1:00 p.m., "afternoon, Dr. Collins."

" _I have a body on one of my slabs you might be interested in. A. . . Marisa Piper?"_

Plopping on the couch, Rukia opened her laptop and did a quick search through the Council files. The face of a middle-aged woman popped up. It was grainy, taken from a security camera outside a bank. The notes indicated she was a rogue who had passed through their territory a few months back. Taking advantage of dwindling chaos Aizen left behind, she helped herself to a few civilians and then split. She'd been a nuisance, but not worth wasting more time and effort chasing after her when she crossed the border.

"Where did they find her?"

Ichigo watched her, listening in from his place near the wall.

" _Let me see,"_ she said as she shuffled some papers. " _It looks like they found her pretty close to the Consulate. I'm surprised your guys didn't pick her up."_

That didn't make any sense. Marisa had made it into another territory, why risk coming back? Even more, why get so close to the Council itself where she was even more likely to get caught?

"Do you have cause of death?"

" _I thought you might be curious. If that didn't catch your attention, I figured the fact that she looks like one of your vampires that poisoned themselves might have."_

"She poisoned herself?"

" _I didn't say that. I just said she looks similar to the ones who did. Her skin is flaccid, like it's too big for her body. And given she should only weigh 8 stones when filled out and wet, I'd say it's not from extreme weight loss. I'll know more once I do a full examination and post-mortem. I'll begin in 30 minutes."_

"We'll see you then."

"Why would a rogue who escaped go to the Council?" Ichigo wondered.

"You're assuming she was going to the Council. She might have been passing by." He looked like he believed that as much as she believed it herself. If she came back to London for some reason, there were plenty of ways to get around without getting close to the Consulate. She had been there for a reason, and it more than likely got her killed.

Rukia put the phone in her other pocket and slung her bag over her shoulder.

"What about Nnoitra?" Ichigo asked.

"We won't hear a peep from him for a few days a least. Until then we can look into this."

* * *

 **Author's Note:** Normally I try to post on Fridays or the weekends, but I wanted to post this one a little early.

I hope you all enjoyed the chapter. There was a little more going on, a little more insight to Ichigo's struggles with his transformation, and a few more mysteries for our duo to figure out in their hunt for Aizen.

I'm going to be honest, sexualized scenes aren't exactly my strong suit, so I hope the bit with Rukia and the beast turned out well. Obviously it isn't the ideal situation for romance since Ichigo wasn't in control, but this wasn't really about that. Most creatures that run on instinct only think about 3 things, I figured it made sense the beast would be attracted to a strong female and try to mate with her.

Thanks to everyone who added this story to their favorites and are following it! And a special thanks to those who left reviews: **mautauaja** (I'm sorry I forgot to thank you in my last update!), **Kay-Dis89** , **lightdesired** , and the 2 guests. I'm so glad you all are enjoying the story so far and were willing to come back and read the sequel even though it's been so long since I finished the original.

I know things are slow going, but they're starting to get going. I'm excited as we start getting further into the story. Thanks for reading!


	5. Chapter Four

**Author's Notes:** I think I have the soundtrack where I want it to be, or at least good enough to start adding it to the chapters. I have a Google Playlist with all of the music so far. It's set to public, so I believe anyone can listen to it, even if you don't have a paid account (don't hold me to that). Just search "For Love Soundtrack". If you can't find it, no worries, I'm going to be including the music for the chapters at the start of each chapter. I've gone back through the previous chapters and added the songs for those as well. The playlist on Google Play includes quite a bit of music, some of it assigned to chapters, some not. Basically, it's a work in progress.

Obviously you don't have to use this music, I know stories and music speak to people in different ways. These are songs that inspired me as I was writing.

 **Author's Soundtrack:**

In the Air Tonight by Mindy Jones

Hater by Korn (first line break)

Homeostasis by Nostalghia (second line break)

* * *

 **Chapter Four**

* * *

In the morgue of the London Bridge Hospital, Ichigo watched as Dr. Collins leaned over the bare body of a woman previously known as Marisa Piper. Her skin was flabby, draping over her bones like a soft leather blanket and pooling on the metal medical slab. Every muscle and ounce of fat was gone, as if it had all been sucked out of her. The doctor reached into the open cavity she cut into the dead woman's chest and systematically pulled out the shriveled remains of her organs.

Ichigo's stomach lurched. He'd seen a lot when his father had run the clinic and worked at the hospital - bones sticking out from the skin, gushing wounds, dangling limbs. Then there were the injuries he inflicted and experienced himself. But this? This was an entirely different matter.

"I think it's safe to say the cause of death was organ failure," Collins stated. She declared the unrecognizable remains were the liver and set it on a tray behind her. "And given that her stomach is near bursting, I would say for certain her death wasn't natural."

Grabbing a syringe from another tray where several tools were laid out, she pierced the stomach and filled the vial with dark liquid. She did this several times until the stomach was nearly deflated, then she removed it and set it on the table beside the body. Using a scalpel, she cut into the stomach and sorted through the contents.

"It looks like all she had was blood. She gorged herself, and yet her body acted as if it hadn't had a drop in months, devouring itself in an attempt to stave off death."

"So something tricked her body?" Rukia wondered.

"Seems that way. Judging by the similarities between this corpse and the others I'd say it's more than likely the result of whatever chemical they consume. Obviously, I'll have to do a bit more research before I can say for certain, but given what we already know, I'd say it's more than likely."

The doctor set the stomach next to the liver and dove back in.

"She's young, too," she continued. "I would say she only recently came out of the Rage. Six months ago would be my best guess."

Ichigo frowned, trying to focus on what she was saying rather than the string of intestine she was pulling out like a fishing line. "How can you tell?"

"The teeth." She set aside the intestines and pulled back the skin on Marisa's lips. They were tinted a slight yellow, with bits of flesh and other particles lodged in between the crevices. Collins pointed to the extended canines. "During the transformation process, the canines become stronger and more pronounced. As the vampire ages, the teeth become a little longer and stronger. I can extract one of the fangs and run a couple of tests. That will give me a more accurate age, but on experience alone, I could probably give you a solid guess as to when she was transformed."

The smile she wore was smug and full of pride.

"When was she turned?" Rukia asked.

Collins' smile widened to something almost gleeful. "Nearly a year ago."

"Wait," Ichigo said, his brow furrowing in further confusion, "you said her Rage ended six months ago."

"If that's the case," Rukia said cautiously, "then she was in the Rage for six months prior to coming out of it."

"Fascinating isn't it?" The bright gleam in the doctor's eye disturbed him.

"'Fascinating' isn't what I'd call it," Ichigo remarked darkly.

If what the doctor was saying was correct, Marisa was more than likely one of the vampires Aizen used to attack the Council. A newborn finally turned. An innocent recovering from the shock and horror of what she had done for the past year. Aizen's army had been made up of innocents, people he kidnapped, tortured, and experimented on.

It wasn't fascinating. It was tragic.

The doctor quirked an eyebrow at him before shrugging and digging around for more organs. "I suppose my theory could be incorrect. I'll gather as much information as I can before your Council finds out about this and whisks the body away. We should have some results in a day or two."

"That long?"

She glared at Ichigo over the body. "Lab work takes time. Honestly, getting them back in a couple of days is rather impressive. Normally it takes weeks." She pushed her glasses up the bridge of her narrow nose pointedly. He couldn't see her mouth behind the mask she wore, but he was sure her lips were pressed into a thin line of annoyance.

"Don't get pouty," she continued. "The scans I took earlier revealed something interesting as well. Maybe it'll keep you busy while you wait for the other results." She pulled off a glove and handed Rukia a manila folder.

"What is it?" Rukia asked, opening it and taking a look at an image. She held it up to the light as Ichigo stepped behind her. It was an X-Ray of a brain. Near the stem he could see a small square of white.

"A chip."

"Any idea what its purpose might be?"

"Potentially. I'll know a bit more once I get it out."

Putting on a clean pair of gloves, the doctor called for them to assist her in rolling the body over and holding it in place. Ichigo cringed as the skin sagged with gravity like slow moving, flesh colored putty. With well-practiced movements, Collins removed the chip from the brain stem and dropped it into a plastic baggie. She held it up to the light and examined it with a thoughtful hum.

"Just as I thought." She threw another glove into the trash and got on her phone. When she found what she was looking for, she passed her phone to Rukia. "DARPA" was scrolled across the top of the screen in large letters, followed by "Restoring Active Memory (RAM)".

"When I saw the scan, I was reminded of this. I heard about it at a recent conference." The doctor leaned on the table. "The original intent behind this chip was to help rebuild memories of veterans with traumatic brain injuries. This chip matches the one that I just pulled out of our dead vampire."

Rukia glanced at her. "I feel a very large 'but' coming."

"But, I'm not sure that's how this chip is being used."

"She could have been used in a trial."

"Possible, but not likely. There's scar tissue around where the chip was inserted. Since you all heal without leaving scars behind, this had to have been inserted before she was turned. However -" she held up a hand for Rukia to wait before she asked more questions, "there's damage around the brainstem and the incision that indicates this was inserted without care. It was a rush job. Given the experimental and delicate nature of the RAM project, it's unlikely they would have been stupid enough to risk permanently damaging the subject and the chip. Plus, human trials haven't started."

"Of course they haven't," Rukia replied flatly. "So what does this chip do?"

Collins shrugged. "I don't know. I just found the thing. You'll need someone with a different set of skills to take a look at it."

Rukia narrowed her eyes in suspicion. "You have a theory, though."

"Maybe."

Rukia waited patiently, uninterested in playing the doctor's games. She was quick to concede and tell them what she knew.

"There's no evidence to explain why the victim's body turned on itself. Poison was my original theory, but I've had no luck finding any trace of it. Given the circumstances, it was the only thing that made sense. However, this chip adds a new chess piece to the board and a new possibility as to what's happening to them before they die."

"Did you find a chip in the others?"

At this, the doctor's ego deflated considerably. "I hate to admit it, but there's a possibility I missed it entirely. I'm normally very thorough in my reviews, and I've been racking my brain trying to recall if I saw anything like this in the others, or if this is the first time we're seeing it. If it is, then my theory is wrong and we're back to square one. Unfortunately, I can't check out the bodies again. Your Council took them."

Rukia studied the chip intently. "I'll see what I can find out."

A phone on the wall rang and the doctor picked it up. "Morgue." Waving her hand in the air, Collins dismissed them. Ichigo wanted to ask her more questions, but Rukia bowed her head out of habit and exited the room.

"I hate leaving with more questions than answers," Ichigo grumbled, falling into step beside her.

"At least they're new questions." She stopped suddenly. "Go on ahead. I forgot to ask her something."

Ichigo was about to ask her what she forgot, but she had already turned the corner and headed into the morgue. He waited for a few minutes before making his way back. From the small window in the door, he saw Rukia and the doctor speaking quietly.

"The results were inconclusive. I'm sorry. I'll need more time to do more research." The doctor's tone was surprisingly soft and sympathetic, a strange change from her normally sharp and proud attitude. Rukia's arms were crossed, her shoulders sagged in disappointment. "Try not to worry about it for now."

Rukia nodded and headed for the door. He moved out of the way as it swung open. She froze in the hall, hand on the door, when she saw him standing there. Whatever it was they had been discussing, she clearly didn't like him knowing about it, and that bothered him. After everything they had been through together, she was still keeping secrets from him.

When she released the door and started walking, he kept silent, trying to figure out how to broach the subject without getting a fist in his stomach. He should have left it well enough alone. If she didn't want to talk with him about it, it wasn't his business. But curiosity, disappointment, and annoyance nagged at him.

"What was that about?" He finally asked.

"It's nothing. Don't worry about it." Her tone was cool and dismissive, and it sparked an anger he hadn't known was ready to ignite.

How many times had she told him not to worry? Tried to push him away? How many times did he have to convince her she could trust him, rely on him? They were partners, weren't they? They were in this together, for the long haul, and yet she continued to keep pushing him to the side. He was still a child to her, a kid who couldn't handle the truth. It was bullshit.

He grabbed her arm and pulled her to a dead stop. His grip was tighter than it needed to be, but that was partially because she was yanking it from him with all her might.

"Don't."

Something inside him snapped, and he grabbed her again, pushing her against the wall so she couldn't ignore him and walk away. He glared down at her, his eyes boring into hers in an attempt to make her see he was there for her. His heart stopped at what he saw there. Determination. Anger. Fear.

Fear?

The tip of a knife pressed just beneath his ribs, digging into the still healing wound from Nnoitra. She had never drawn a weapon on him. She had never looked at him like that - except once. He could still remember it as if it had happened a few minutes ago. Her eyes were just as dark, just as worried as he had come out of the Rage all those months ago; when he had her pressed into the wall by the throat and had tried to kill her. For her to look at him like he was that monster - his heart felt like it had been punctured and was sinking heavily in his chest.

She didn't trust him, and perhaps she was right not too. How many times had the monster within torn at the walls and screamed for him to go after her? How many times had he bloodied himself to make it shut up? Even now he could feel it stirring, focusing on the sweet blood that flowed through her veins, pulsing beneath a thin layer of smooth skin.

Surprisingly, it did little more than quake with desire. He was so close, all he had to do was lean forward just a little bit, and he would be able to sink his teeth into her flesh. Still, it didn't fight or cry out in desperation and desire. Instead, it held itself back. Did it want him to give in to his own desire? Commit an act of betrayal on his own?

Like hell he would be so pathetic.

Cursing, he pushed off the wall and stormed down the hall. He wouldn't let that bastard win. Rukia was right to arm herself against him. Until he rid himself of this ghost, it wasn't safe for her to be around him.

* * *

Ichigo's back hit the mat with a painful thud, the weight of the impact spreading through his limbs like an electric shock. But there was no time to think about it. Pulling his legs in, he rolled backwards and barely managed to avoid Hiyori's sword as it came down hard. The tiny vampire clicked her tongue in disappointment before lunging at him. He managed to get to his feet and get his sword up before she could land a strike.

After he got back from the hospital, Ichigo sought the first person he knew would help him burn off his anger. Hiyori had practically skipped to the gym when he asked her for a sparring session. She'd nearly drooled when he asked her to go full out. She was small, but concealed in that compact little body was a lot of strength, speed, and ferocity. From the minute they started, she had gone at him like a vampire unhinged, and he returned the favor. Both of them were exhausted, sweaty, and covered in cuts and slices.

Rukia clearly spoiled him when they sparred. She challenged him, for sure, but it was always safe. Whenever she felt they were pushing it too hard she would stop the session. He'd never argued. If he drew too much blood it became too dangerous. With Hiyori he didn't have to worry about it. When he smelled her blood it was like smelling water - bland and flavorless.

"I'm surprised, Kurosaki." Hiyori was breathing hard as she wiped her forehead with the back of her arm. It was a good opportunity to attack, but after thirty minutes of constantly exchanging blows, he was grateful for the brief reprieve.

"By what?" He kept his answer short, not wanting to give away his own exhaustion.

"Everyone's been bragging about how difficult you are to beat. They said you were so fast they could never land a hit." She paused and smirked as she continued. "But I've got you all nice and bloody."

"Luck."

"Nah," she said with her lips spreading into a wide grin, revealing her sharp canines. "You're distracted."

To prove her point, Hiyori appeared to his right and nearly landed a blow on his exposed shoulder. Ichigo got his sword up in time and blocked her. Grinning, she pressed harder, pushing him back towards the edge of the mat.

"Thinking too much in a fight is a good way to get yourself killed."

"Easy for you to say."

Her smile disappeared and she screamed as she twisted away and tried to strike him from behind. Sometimes she made it just too easy to goad her. He twisted to block her attack and used the momentum to bring his leg around. His shin connected with her ribs and sent her flying across the mat. She rolled and stood, her smile returning.

"Trouble in paradise?"

"We're fine."

He didn't like the way she was smirking at him.

"That means you aren't."

"We're fine," he insisted, having no interest in discussing his issues. "I thought we were supposed to be fighting?"

"Fighting can be more than just physically attacking your enemy. It can be a mental game, too." She tapped her temple in emphasis.

He scowled and appeared beside her, swiping low. She jumped and put a few feet of distance between them. "You're just trying to catch your breath."

"I'm curious," she said, almost mocking him with her casual demeanor. "Normally you spar with the peons or the Princess. You came directly to me. I'm assuming it's because you knew I wouldn't hold back and you could work off some steam, which means you have steam to work off."

He narrowed his eyes and attacked again, but it was slow with no determination behind it. Mostly he just wanted her to shut up. He wasn't there to talk.

She avoided his attack, landing behind him. "I figure that means you're having a lover's spat and want to work off some of that tension."

"Which is becoming increasingly difficult the more you keep talking," he mentioned through gritted teeth.

She ignored him and continued speaking. "You two would be better off just banging and getting it out of the way. It's different from sparring, but has some benefits."

Ichigo stilled, his face and body heating up like they were on fire. "Like hell we're doing that!"

"Why not?" Hiyori looked genuinely baffled.

Ichigo was certain his face was bright red. The last thing he needed was to think about was sex, especially with Rukia. He was distracted enough as it was. What he needed was to concentrate and end this session before Hiyori started throwing out any other weird ideas.

"It's inappropriate on so many levels." Hoping that would be the end of it, he attacked again. She dodged.

"Because she's your boss?" She waved her hand dismissively. "It's hardly uncommon. Some Councils encourage it. A bodyguard who is protecting their lover is more effective than one who's getting paid to do it."

Ichigo gawked and nearly tripped over his own feet. "That's beside the point." And then he was looking for another reason. "She's older."

He didn't see the butt of the sword until she was hitting him in the face with it. Cursing, he stumbled back as he clutched his nose, trying to stem the bleeding.

"What the hell?"

"Sorry, gut reaction." She didn't look particularly apologetic. "You're not worried about her age."

"How do you know?" he demanded, his voice muffled by his hand as he continued to pinch his nose.

"Because she looks like she's no older than 25. When you think 150, you think of a withered wrinkly old woman with stringy white hair who can't get out of bed. No, I think instead of being unattracted, you're too attracted."

The bleeding had stopped and he released his grip on his nose. He wish it hadn't. It served as a good distraction. She was watching his face with amusement and he didn't like it.

"Hit the nail on the head huh?"

"She's attractive," he admitted begrudgingly.

Hiyori rolled her eyes. "Most vampires are. Some of us look a little weird, I'll admit, but at the core of it we're supposed to be. It comes from the old hunting days. It's much easier to lure our targets when we appeal to them physically. But that's not all I'm talking about." She tapped the vein along her neck. "You want to drink from her."

Ichigo clenched his jaw shut, afraid if he said anything she would take it and run with it. Rukia and Hiyori weren't on friendly terms, but he didn't want her running off and exposing his weakness to Rukia. It would only add to her distrust.

"Relax, Jesus. You look like I'm threatening to skin your puppy or something." She dug the tip of her sword into the mat and leaned on the hilt. "Wanting to drink from a pureblood is pretty natural. I'm not sure what it is about them, but their blood is appealing, even to vampires. Seems like a flaw in the code to me."

"So everyone wants to drink from a pureblood?"

Hiyori shrugged. "Most vampires who have been turned anyway. I mean, it's not unmanageable. Anymore I find it a nuisance, like an itch in my throat."

He wasn't sure how he felt about others sharing similar craving. The beast roused, ever so slightly, feeling angry and . . . territorial?

A force the size of Hiyori's foot struck him from behind and knocked him to the floor. He felt the point of her kneecap dig into his spin.

"Ha ha!" She barked in victory. "I told you it was a mental game too!"

Growling, he pushed up. His strength overpowered hers. When he was on his feet, she was standing several yards away.

"Look, it'll get easier the longer you're around purebloods. It's kind of like a gorgeous view. When it's new it still pulls at your heart and takes your breath away. But after staring at the same thing for days on end for over a decade you become desensitized to it. It becomes another thing you see every day, and that's it."

He wasn't quite sure that analogy applied to his particular situation, but he was hesitant to talk to Hiyori about what was truly the root of his concerns. Perhaps, at the heart of it, she was right. The longer he was around Rukia, the less interested the animal would become. At least, he hoped so.

Tapping the dull edge of her sword on her shoulder, Hiyori smirked at him. "Now, are you finally ready to give it your all or do you need me to give you a few more nosebleeds?"

Scowling, Ichigo prepared himself and launched at his sparring partner. She hadn't exactly been helpful, but she'd tried in her own way. The least he could do in thanks was kick her ass.

* * *

Violent, bloody images and worried faces flickered across the large screen TV, illuminating the darkened apartment with vibrant whites, blues, and reds. Nnoitra mused silently to himself as he watched the humans, panicked over another death, wailing at how cruel the world was to claim the life of someone so young and sweet and beautiful and barf. The girl had been so blitzed out of her mind he'd gotten a buzz drinking her blood. It shouldn't have happened to her? Please. She had painted a neon target on her back, like a weak animal in a herd. If anything, they should be thanking him for ridding the world of another useless bag of meat taking up space and oxygen.

He snorted into the glass of bourbon. As if he cared for their gratitude.

Taking a sip, he peered down at his current host. The large man stared up at him with dull eyes. Well, that happened when someone broke their neck. The man had been an idiot, thinking his 136 kilograms of muscle would be able to overcome Nnoitra. He'd gone down in less than a second. At least he had good taste in alcohol. The bourbon was probably the cheapest thing in his cabinet, and it was worth a couple hundred Pounds.

His girlfriend - or was she a high-priced whore? - stared up at Nnoitra from the corner of the room, shaking like one of the vibrators probably hiding in her purse. He wasn't sure what he was going to do with her yet. Her client tasted of steroids, which always ruined his appetite, and he was in no mood to play with her.

Tapping his finger on the edge of the glass, an idea came to him. Maybe he would leave her as a present for the little princess and her puppy. Her royal highness didn't seem too attached to the humans, more bothered by the disturbance of the peace. But Rover? Rover clearly had an attachment to the walking meal tickets. Probably still clinging to the fragile mortal life he'd left behind.

Revolting.

How pissed off would they be if he left not just this body, but a few of them, wrapped up like gifts and sprinkled about the city?

His phone rang, startling the bitch in the corner, causing her to burst into a fit of tears. He growled and she swallowed her wails, cowering further into the corner. His long nose curled in disgust. When he looked at the caller ID he snarled. He didn't want to talk to her. Wordy lectures and commands, even if they were coming from a walking, talking piece of sex, weren't his style. Lifting the phone to his eyes, he tried to determine how much he wanted to risk his own life by not answering. There was no guarantee she would, or even could, kill him from this distance. Then again, there was no guarantee she couldn't.

Unwilling to risk his own life, he huffed and answered. "And what can I do for you, oh eternal pain in my ass?"

" _I know English is your second language, Nnoitra, but I didn't think 'low profile' was a difficult phrase to understand."_

Clearly, she was pissed. Nnoitra couldn't decide if that amused him or terrified him.

"I got bored."

" _I don't care. You were supposed to keep an eye on the Kuchiki girl, not gorge yourself on the local cuisine and call attention to yourself."_

"Why can't I do all three?" He ran his tongue over his teeth. "And it's not like they can find me."

" _How do you think I found out you were the one pulling this stupid little stunt? The Council leaked your picture to the authorities. Everyone is keeping an eye out for you now."_

He shrugged. "That'll just make it all the more amusing when I drop another body on them."

He could hear her tapping her fingernails on a surface, a slow rhythm as if trying to keep her calm. " _Do not do anything that will compromise his plans."_

"Yeah, yeah, yeah. I'll keep my hands off the little runt. Why's he even interested in that pipsqueak? She's hardly anything to look at. I mean, seriously, where are the curves? It's like she stopped growing at 13."

" _His interest in her is none of your concern."_

"I supposed" he took another drink. "I really couldn't give two shits about the sick things that monster thinks about, and unless he's going to fly his ass over here, I'm going to keep doing things my way."

" _I see you've managed to find your balls somewhere in those back alleys."_

Judging by her less than murderous tone, she wasn't going to kill him - yet. A grin spread across his lips.

"Well then, if you're done bitching-"

" _Just a reminder, Nnoitra, you are to look, not touch."_

"She may have a pretty face, but I prefer my women more physically formed."

" _Don't play dumb. I don't want to have to call you again."_

The phone clicked as she hung up. Nnoitra stared at it with disgust. Ever since she dragged him into her world she had been nothing but a pain in the ass. What good was everlasting life if it came with a leash? He spent months in prison, fighting, killing, and feeding. He'd survived their damned tests and experiments. He'd earned the right to do whatever the hell he wanted, and he was going to start with playing with Aizen's precious little princess and her ginger puppy.

* * *

 **Author's Notes:** Thank you to those who reviewed, favorited, and followed the story! I'm glad you guys seem to be enjoying the story so far! A special thanks to the 3 guests and **yocel** who left their thoughts and questions. I'd love to answer all of your questions, but I don't want to spoil anything, but I hope you'll be pleased with things as they progress.

I want to thank **lightdesired** for sending me a very lovely and passionate PM. I hope can continue to make you happy with my story and thank you so much for your support :).

I know things are still ramping up, so thanks for sticking it out. Please R&R! I love hearing from you wall.


	6. Chapter Five

**Author's Soundtrack:  
** Not Meant for Me by Wayne Static  
Connection Achieved by Kid Juggernaut (club music)

* * *

Chapter Five

* * *

Four more women.

Three days hadn't passed and he had killed, mutilated, and discarded four more women, scattering their brutalized remains about the city. And the media was having a field day. Every hour, on the hour, they were running "Breaking News" reports with new information gathered by some wayward witness who was looking for their five minutes of fame. Specialists were interviewed, analyzing the killer's intentions and motivations. They offered their suggestions to the authorities, who were in a frenzy trying to nail down the madman terrorizing their city.

"Ripper's Scion" is what they were calling him.

This wasn't about fame for him, but he was probably enjoying the attention and the bad light it reflected on the British Council. He was mocking them. Mocking her. This wasn't about feeding and indulging himself in a flagrant disregard for the rules. This was a blatant provocation. And he was doing a very good job at provoking her. When they'd found the second and third bodies, it was clear he hadn't even fed on them. Instead, he had cut them up and let them bleed out.

When they'd found the fourth body - eighth taking into consideration the six women he killed before they finally caught up with him - she finally got the full backing of the Council. Their carefully rebuilt reputation was at risk the longer he continued to evade them. All funds and efforts were to be funnelled into her department, and she was taking full advantage. As soon as they'd given her unfettered access, she had nearly every person in the consulate combing through evidence, witness testimonies, and security footage to help her find some sort of tell or pattern that would either lead them to his next target or help them come up with a plan to draw him out.

Their efforts hadn't been wasted. In hundreds of hours of security footage, they were able to track his movements, evaluate his hunts. The girls he killed didn't look the same. Their skin tones were different, ranging from light to dark. Their hair was of an even larger variety from straight to curly, natural to unnatural in color. But there were commonalities. They were all tall and curvaceous. He would find a target in a nightclub and watch her, stalk her. If she wasn't drunk enough or traveling alone, he abandoned one query for another.

And he favored three nightclubs, hopping around seemingly at random. At first, they weren't sure how they were going to differentiate which club to focus their attention on until a tech had a musical realisation - the same DJ played at all of the clubs he hunted in.

In 24 hours, after the last body had been found, they finally gathered enough information to act. Tonight, that same DJ was playing at Club Nova, and the Council would provide a tempting piece of bait.

Drawing in a deep breath, Rukia exhaled slowly. The full force of the Council was on the streets tonight, her hunters' numbers padded by the addition of Hiyori's security agents. There still weren't enough people for her liking. Despite her confidence Nnoitra would be at Club Nova, she didn't dare risk leaving the other clubs unattended.

She leaned back in her chair and stretched out her stiff muscles. She had been sitting in the surveillance van for nearly three hours, listening to loud, ear-bursting music, and humans screaming their conversations at one another. She felt like her ears were going to bleed. Watching them grind on one another like feral animals in heat through six large monitors wasn't making the situation any better.

Maria, one of the Council's tech genius', managed to hack into the club's security feed, giving them extensive access to every single camera the club had to offer - including an unsavory one in the women's bathroom. When this was over, she might file an anonymous report.

Rukia's eyes flitted from screen to screen until she spotted her agent inside. Sally, one of her human agents who worked for the Council, was dressed to kil,l. Somehow she'd managed to fit herself into a skin-tight, revealing black dress that made her double D's nearly burst out the top. She leaned against the bar and ordered another drink. How she kept everything in place was mind-boggling and impressive.

The DJ scratched a record and turned up the volume. Rukia winced and ripped the headphones off her ears. She glared at them with complete hatred and considered throwing them across the van. How could Nnoitra like this kind of music? Could it even qualify as music? It only ever sounded like cats in heat howling in an auditorium full of drums.

As she contemplated crushing all of the electronics into small unrecognizable bits, the smell of warm soothing green tea filled her nostrils. She glanced down at the thermos Ichigo was holding out for her. Every muscle in his body was wound tight like they were ready to snap, and it wasn't because of his dislike for their current mission. Since their visit to the morgue, Ichigo had been avoiding her, only involving himself when duty demanded it.

He was angry, and understandably so. What she had done was uncalled for. Instead of acting on logic and experience, she reacted purely on fear and instinct. When he'd grabbed her, all she could think about was that moment when the beast had throw her on the bed and the look of hunger in its eyes. The dagger was in her hand before her back hit the wall.

The hurt she had seen when he saw the dagger was like stabbing herself in the heart. He knew, then, that she didn't trust him - not entirely. No, she corrected herself, she didn't trust the beast. But, she thought, wasn't that the same thing? To believe the beast took control was to believe Ichigo was too weak to fight it.

The doubt seeping into to the corners of her mind made her sick to her stomach. As a human, he had stood against an unknown enemy. As a human, he kept stepping into her dark world because he couldn't leave well enough alone. As a human, he chose to throw away everything he knew so he could stay with his sisters and get revenge. As a newborn, he abandoned those sisters to join her in her fight against Aizen. Ichigo Kurosaki had done so much more in one year than she had done in one decade, and she had the audacity to doubt his strength.

For the past couple of days, she tried to figure out how to mend the bridge she torched to the ground, and she still didn't have an answer. She wasn't sure she deserved to find one. When the mission was over, she would take more time to consider how to make amends. Right now, however, she needed to give this mission her full attention.

Giving him a small smile of appreciation, Rukia took the thermos. She ignored the painful sting as he immediately turned his attention back to the monitors, reminding herself it was a deserved slight.

"I still don't like it."

Rukia stared at the tea, trying to figure out which particular "it" he was referring to. How she reacted when she touched him? The mission? The tea?

Since he was glaring at the monitors, she figured he was talking about the mission.

"She'll be fine," she said in a weak attempt to reassure him. She took a sip of the tea. The hot, mild flavor was like heaven. "She's a trained Council agent. Compared to the other victims, her chances of survival, even without us watching her back, are considerably higher. We'll be there to intercept him before he can try to do anything to her."

Assuming he even showed. It was nearly one in the morning and they had yet to spot the one-eyed bastard. Their window of opportunity was closing with every passing minute, and she was beginning to doubt they picked the right club. Maybe he didn't like this DJ after all. She couldn't blame him.

"He's here," Ichigo said suddenly, a low growl rumbling in his throat.

Straightening in her seat, she followed his gaze to one of the monitors. He was difficult to see, his spindly form lurking along the edges of the crowd. The resolution on the camera wasn't great either, making his features difficult to discern, but it was him. And someone had his attention. The way he paced slowly from side to side, his face always pointed in one direction. Was it Sally who captured his attention or someone else? They had prepared for the possibility of him hunting a different target. The risks were higher for everyone, but they could handle it.

Around her neck dangled an earpiece that connected her with her teams. She slipped it into her ear and pressed it to open up the channel.

"All units. Target spotted at Club Nova. East side of the room. Target's intended victim is unconfirmed."

 _"Should I start to leave?"_ Sally subtly brushed her hair over her ears, her hand concealing the movement of her lips.

"Negative," Rukia told her. "We don't have confirmation you're his target."

"We should be in there."

Rukia studied Ichigo. He was staring intently at the screen, his hands gripping the edges of the switchboard, turning his knuckles white. Any tighter and he might have snapped it right off its bolts. As much as she understood his concern and anxiety, they couldn't run in there half-cocked. There were too many humans, too many escape routes, too many things that could result in a lot of blood and damage. And they would lose their only living link to Aizen.

"No. We stay put."

Ichigo's head whipped around, his eyes wide with disbelief. "She's in there alone with that monster."

"She's not alone. She's surrounded by hundreds of people. Nnoitra is a lot of things, but he won't kill her in the middle of the club with-"

"We don't even know if he's after her!" He was wild and desperate. He wasn't seeing a professionally trained agent, he was seeing Karin or Yuzu. And there was nothing she could say that would make him feel more comfortable with the plan. He didn't even realize that this kind of thing happened on a daily basis. Somewhere, right this moment, there was a vampire hunting their prey. They would drain their victim and either kill them or leave them for dead. The Council had shielded him from the grim reality that the world was a dangerous place. He thought he knew and understood the dangers of vampires, but he didn't know, not truly.

At least if something happened tonight, whomever Nnoitra attacked had a much better chance of surviving than if it had been any other night.

"We've been over this." She kept her tone calm and even. "We need to wait and see who he might be after. If we go in there now, we won't be able to stop him. We stick with the plan, whether he goes after Sally or someone else. We watch, follow, and intervene before he can cause any harm."

Scowling, he pushed back his chair and threw the doors at the back of the van open, jumping into the wet street. He grabbed his sword from where it sat in the corner and hooked the strap onto his belt.

"Where are you going?" She demanded, trying to keep an eye on him and the monitors. Nnoitra was still standing near the perimeter of the crowd, unmoving as he continued to watch his prey.

"I'm going in there. I'm not going to lose someone else," he told her gruffly and slammed the doors shut.

She cursed. The last thing she needed was Ichigo running off and messing everything up. Best case scenario, they manage to salvage this and walk away with a new potential source of information. Worst case scenario - she didn't want to think about it, and she didn't want Ichigo to live with it.

"Katie," Rukia called to the agent sitting in the driver's seat. The young woman glanced up from her romance novel, intent on tuning out anything unless it was an order. "Keep an eye on the target and let me know if he moves. I'm going to try and stop this from going completely to Hell."

As Katie climbed into the back with an obedient nod, Rukia grabbed her sword and climbed out of the van. She closed the doors and searched for Ichigo. She spotted him hurrying down a side alley leading towards the back door of the club. Wasting no time, she was beside him in a second.

"Ichigo, stop."

When he ignored her and continued walking, she stepped in front of him, forcing him to pull up short. His gaze was like a bright fire, stoked with his anger and disappointment. He could be angry with her later, right now, she needed to make sure this plan succeeded.

"If you go after him in the middle of the club, you're only going to get people hurt or killed."

His laughter was full of bitterness. "I'm not an idiot. I'll draw him out, away from the crowd."

He might not have been an idiot, but he was certainly acting like one at the moment. He was wearing blinders, his emotions blocking out anything else except his desire to save a life. If he didn't stop and see what was around him he would lose a lot more than one person. She needed to expand his focus, see the bigger picture. As he stepped around her, she grabbed his arm firmly and slammed him into the wall of the alley.

His eyes went wide with shock. Clearly, he'd forgotten how strong she was. She stamped down the momentary feeling of smug satisfaction. It wouldn't help her here.

"You have no means of drawing him out. He's not interested in you. But if he sees you, gets a whiff of you, he'll know we've set a trap. That club is full of people. They aren't just protecting Sally, they're protecting him. One wrong move and he won't hesitate to slaughter everyone in the building. It won't just be Sally that's dead."

The defiance flashed across his gaze momentarily and then faded. Relief settled the pounding in her chest. Their relationship was already damaged. It was unlikely he would ever forgive her if she laid him out to stop him. It would be another betrayal.

The door to one of the buildings slammed open, cracking against the wall. Rukia pulled Ichigo into a narrow side alley that cut through the buildings like a channel. She pressed him into the wall, in case he decided to fight her, and clamped her hand over his mouth. Beneath her grip he struggled, but she pinned him with an icy glare.

A drunk couple, a man and a woman, staggered out of the door and stumbled down the stairs that led from the doorway to the alley. They laughed at one another, weaving and wobbling, bumping into each other until they turned a corner.

When they were out of sight, Rukia removed her hand. "I know you have your concerns. We all do. None of us are happy with this plan, but this is our best chance at capturing Nnoitra. I know I haven't done a much to garner your good will or trust recently, but believe me when I say that if I had another way of doing this, one that didn't risk lives, I would take it. Sally is our best bet. She's a trained agent. She might not be as strong as a vampire, but if she gets in a tight spot, she'll be able to handle one for a few minutes and buy time for us to get to her."

The corners of Ichigo's nose curled as he growled his disapproval, but he didn't move against her hold on him. He didn't like it, but he wasn't going to run off again. She loosened her grip.

"I know you don't like putting humans at risk. I tried to avoid it, but we don't have any other options. If I had gone instead-"

Ichigo's head snapped and he gnashed his teeth, his dark amber eyes alight with rage. A small part - tiny - saw the beast in those eyes. It feared it had taken control and that she would have to deal with him. She quickly shut it down. She wouldn't make the same mistake twice.

"That wouldn't make it any easier or better," he growled. His eyes bored into her, and she felt heat gather in the pit of her stomach.

" _I've got his attention. I'm initiating the next part of the plan."_

Rukia and Ichigo shared a glance before nodding. Arguments could wait for another time.

"Roger, Sally," Rukia whispered, pressing her earpiece. "Katie, keep an eye on the target. Delta Team, get into position."

" _Roger."_

" _Roger."_

"Ready?"

For a moment, she thought he was going to ignore her and act on his own. But he nodded and stepped out of the channel. Finding a set of ladders, he scaled them and hopped onto the rooftop above. Rukia made her way to the front of the club, arriving just as Sally was exiting the building. She laughed as she tripped on the front step. The bouncer approached her, asking if she was all right. She giggled and waved him off. When she was steady on her feet, she made her way down the sidewalk.

 _"Target on the move."_

A minute later, Nnoitra stepped outside. Casual, unhurried, he gave the air a quick sniff. Rukia was downwind. He couldn't smell her, but she leaned into the dark shelter of the alley and waited. A pleased smile spread across his face and he headed in the same direction Sally had gone.

 _"Delta Team in position. Waiting for the signal."_

"Following target on ground level," Rukia checked-in. Just as Nnoitra rounded a corner, she began her pursuit. It was slow going, maintaining a safe distance and making sure she remained unseen and undetected, but Nnoitra was easy to track. His scent was a suffocating blend of leather and cigarette smoke.

Sally stumbled her way through a couple of alleys, giggling as she spoke on her phone and tripped on her own feet. Nnoitra was still keeping his distance, leaving Rukia to wonder what he was waiting for. She was completely isolated, the perfect victim.

And then he was gone.

She wasn't sure how she missed the movement, but he was no longer in the alley - and neither was Sally. Somehow he managed to slip her detection and grab Sally. She searched the alley, looking for any sign of them. Their scents mingled and lingered, but she couldn't hear or see them. Ichigo was going to kill her. She reached for her earpiece to alert the others when she felt a presence behind her, looming and deadly.

"I'm rather flattered by the effort you've put into tracking me down," his breath whispered against her ear.

She was quick to put as much distance between them, trying to ignore the unpleasant shivers racing across her skin like an infection. Nnoitra watched her with an amused smile, holding a struggling Sally against his body. Long fingers wrapped around her neck and tightened like individual boney vices. Rukia ordered herself to remain still. Any sudden movement and he would snap her neck. She was fast, but not that fast.

"Great job finding someone who matches my tastes. I hate it when they're too skinny, like walking skeletons." He shivered, grimacing in disgust.

"Let her go, Nnoitra," Rukia commanded with much more authority and control than she felt. Slowly, her hand moved towards the grip of her sword.

"Ah, ah, ah," he chided, squeezing Sally's neck and eliciting a strangled cry. "Touch that sword and I break her neck."

She nearly bit her tongue in her fury but dropped her hand to her side. Her eyes remained trained on Nnoitra, but she desperately wanted to search for Ichigo, find out where he was and what was taking him so long. Something or someone must have gotten in his way to prevent him from stepping in. Did Nnoitra have a partner? It was possible, especially if he was working with Aizen, but Nnoitra didn't strike her as a team player. He liked his privacy and freedom.

Without Ichigo to provide an element of surprise, and the Delta Team waiting for a signal she couldn't send, she was on her own.

"She isn't a part of this."

"Isn't she?" He held up her earpiece and crushed it between his fingers. With a lithe smile, his tongue slipped between his lips and slithered across Sally's cheek. Sally recoiled and tried to break free, but Nnoitra held firm. Raising her foot, she slammed the spike of her heel into the top of his foot. It punctured his shoe and blood began to seep out of the top. He howled and loosened his grip on her. Sally tried to run, but Nnoitra buried his hand in her hair and yanked her head back, exposing her throat.

In the small moment of chaos, Rukia unsheathed her sword and closed the distance between them. Her sword slipped between his face and Sally's neck, nearly taking off the tip of his nose. Nnoitra hurled himself backwards. Rukia brought her sword down across his wrist and cut off his hand, effectively separating him from Sally.

Cursing and snapping like a rabid dog, Nnoitra gripped the bleeding stub of his arm. Using his distraction to her advantage, Rukia pulled Sally to her feet. She flailed, trying to rid herself of Nnoitra's detached appendage, the fingers twisted in the tendrils. When it was free, she threw it down and spat on it.

"Go. Now." Rukia ordered, keeping her attention on Nnoitra. If she was going to deal with him she needed Sally out of the way.

With a nod, Sally ran full sprint towards the end of the alley and out of sight. She would be able to signal the Delta team and draw them to her location. All Rukia had to do was keep him busy. Killing him would be much easier, but she needed him alive.

Nnoitra's cries of anguish finally subsided, leaving behind a monster consumed by grief. The muscles in his face tightened and twisted in ferocious rage as he stared at his missing hand. It would have been the perfect time to attack - or the worst. Some creatures were far more dangerous when unhinged. It was safer to use the opportunity to call for backup. She reached for her earpiece.

"Ichi-"

Not enough time. He was in front of her, his face so close to her's she could only see his eyes. They were filled with madness, uncontrollable fury that nearly numbed her entire body with fear. That would have equaled death, so she moved. She was moving back, evading the grasping fingers of his remaining hand.

"How dare you?! How _dare_ you?!"

He gave her little room to maneuver, putting her on the defensive despite his handicap. His wrath fueled him, propelled him forward blindly like a man possessed. It should have made him an easier target to manipulate and corner, but he wasn't giving her any time to plan, to shift the fight in her favor. Her back hit a wall and she realized he had moved them out into a public street. It was empty except for a line of parked cars, but if she didn't move him back into the alley it was going to be full of people.

His fist crashed against the wall beside her head, showering her with rubble and dust.

"You _bitch_! I don't give a shit how interested Aizen is in you! You're going to pay for taking my hand!"

She kicked out, striking his wound. It was still healing, the skin slowly closing over exposed muscles, tendons, and veins. He screamed, like an animal being slaughtered, and leaned away from her. She stabbed him, the white blade of her sword sliding into his torso and out the other side. Bracing her feet against the wall, she launched them both back into the alley. He fumbled for his own sword, and before he could draw it, she planted her feet on his chest and pushed herself away from him.

The soles of her shoes slid across the slick surface of the alley, but she drew to a halt. And then he was behind her, his sword tearing the skin from her left hip to her right shoulder. She could feel the teeth that lined the edges, effective for ripping at the flesh. She bit down on the scream that wanted to burst from her. The power and moment of the attack knocked her forward. She rolled, hissing in agony as the fresh injury made contact with wet concrete. She could feel little bits of rock and debris sticking to the bloody gash.

"Shit. Shit!"

When she staggered to her feet, Nnoitra was clutching his head, staring at her like a terrified child. The change was dizzying.

"He's gonna kill me. No, wait. Maybe he won't. I mean, It's a scratch. It'll heal."

"What the hell are you going on about?"

Nnoitra watched her, but it was like he couldn't see or hear her. He was lost in his own thoughts, his own world, and it looked terrifying. It looked like the perfect distraction. Biting back the pain as her wound tore open further, Rukia lunged at Nnoitra. She would cut him, maim him, dismember him until he was nothing but a talking torso. She would make him suffer for what he'd done to those women, what he'd tried to do to Sally.

"What the hell is that?"

He was finally seeing - what, she didn't know. She didn't care. Swiping downward, the tip of her sword sliced across his chest. He stumbled away from her, and then he was groping his chest, searching it for something. Glistening white in the dim streetlight, something spread from the wound, crawling and creeping slowly across his skin like white frosted crystals.

He gasped and stabbed his sword into his flesh. Rukia watched in stunned horror as he dug deep and cut a chunk of skin and meat from his chest, throwing it away from him. It hit the ground and shattered into several pieces, now completely consumed by a mysterious substance. Steam rose off the pieces and they crackled like ice in water.

"What the fuck did you just do?" Nnoitra demanded, glaring at her.

It had something to do with her powers, that was easy enough to figure out. Glancing at her sword, she noticed the blade, guard, and hilt were covered in a thin layer of ice, but her hands weren't cold. They didn't stick to it or hurt. Whatever this power was, it didn't seem to affect her.

Good to know.

"Is that why he wants you?" Nnoitra demanded, staring at her sword with intrigue. Fear was there, slowly creeping into his features like her crawling ice.

Could she control it? Use it to lock Nnoitra in place? She tried to reach for it, like a hand groping in the dark for a light and found nothing but air. It wouldn't come to her, and there was no time to try.

"I won't let him have it."

She managed to get her sword up in time to stop his assault, but she missed the smaller, curved blade sticking out from the sleeve of his shirt. She barely managed to evade the blade, but Nnoitra was ready with his next attack. He struck with fast and hard, each blow against her sword more powerful than the last, jarring her joints and limbs.

And then he was on his back, halfway down the alley.

A tall figure stood in front of her, silhouetted in the light. He held no weapon, but then again, he didn't need it.

"Hands off, cyclops." Her heart stuttered at the familiarity of his voice, and she wondered what he was doing there, but Nnoitra drew her attention as he growled and got to his feet.

"Who the fuck are you?" He studied the interloper with disdain and disappointment. "I expected the ginger brat - not that it matters. If you're one of hers I'll kill you all the same."

"I need him alive, Ashido."

Ashido turned to look at her, surprise and confusion dancing in those steely gray eyes, but she kept her focus on Nnoitra. His barrage of attacks had been broken, but there was no telling what tactics he might use next.

Five more people appeared at the end of each alley and several more stood along the rooftops. Half of them were dressed in the familiar garb of her hunters, the others wearing the uniform of the Japanese hunters. Ashido brought friends.

A cursory glance revealed that Ichigo wasn't among them.

Nnoitra's eyes darted about the alley, his madness abating into something more akin to stoic panic. He was as good as caught.

"Drop your weapons, Nnoitra. You're coming with us." She stepped beside Ashido. The earthy scent of sage mixed with cinnamon washed over her and her heartbeat steadied. It was like she was back in the humid forest of Borneo, cornering her elusive quarry after a long, satisfying hunt. She had forgotten the effect he had on her.

"I'm going to have to decline. Adios, little princess."

Nnoitra turned and attacked the hunters behind him with full force. Even without his hand, he was a difficult man to deal with, and Rukia briefly feared he might manage to escape. Ichigo dropped down from above and hammered the hilt of his sword into Nnoitra's spine. He collapsed in a heap of gangly limbs. Ichigo clapped him in restraints before he could get to his feet, and pressed his sword up to Nnoitra's narrow neck.

Rukia hurried to his side with Ashido right beside her. Ichigo snarled at Ashido, but her concern was for Nnoitra alone. She shoved her hand into his mouth and began searching for a poison capsule. Dr. Collins had her theory about the chip, but she needed to be sure he didn't have any other means of killing himself.

"Bite down and I slit your throat," Ichigo threatened in Nnoitra's ear.

When she was sure he didn't have a capsule, she pulled her hand out and wiped it on her pants. Nnoitra spat and gagged at her intrusion. Not like she was feeling all that great about it.

"Bitch!" He spat again. "You're going to get me killed!"

Rolling her eyes, Rukia turned her attention to Captain Matt Whitt of the Delta Team. He stood just a few feet away, eyeing Nnoitra cautiously. "Captain Whitt-"

"Shit, Rukia!"

Ready to scold Ashido for addressing her so informally in front of her agents, Rukia spun on her heel only to see the shocked and angry visages of both Ashido and Ichigo. The mild ache along the length of her back reminded her of the gnarly wound Nnoitra inflicted. Adrenaline forced the pain to the recesses of her mind, but after the fight it probably looked considerably worse than it felt. But she didn't have time to worry about it. It would heal.

"It's fine. I'll take care of it when we get back to the Consulate." Both men prepared to argue, but she turned her back on them and spoke with the captain. "Captain, I assume Sally has been picked up."

"Yes, ma'am." He opened his mouth to say something else but closed it when she gave him a pointed stare. She appreciated the concern her team had for her, but she had a prisoner she wanted to interrogate.

"Good. Prepare Nnoitra for transportation to the Consulate and call in to have a room prepared."

"You don't get it," Nnoitra continued to gripe, his tone sounding more like a desperate whine. He shifted in Ichigo's grip, rubbing his throat against the sword and drawing blood. "He'll kill me."

"Not if I do it first," Ichigo snarled.

"Why are you so worried about him now?" Rukia questioned. "You didn't seem so concerned about crossing him a few minutes ago."

"This and that are different," he defended weakly. "Killing you he _might_ forgive, but he won't let you question me. He'll -"

His eye widened for a moment, then rolled into the back of his head. He fell forward, going limp in Ichigo's grasp. Ichigo dropped him unceremoniously and pointed the tip of his sword at the back of his neck. Rukia listened intently for his heartbeat and found it was silent. When his body began to convulse, they stepped back and watched as Nnoitra's skin began to loosen, his body consuming itself much like the others had.

"Shit!" Raking her fingers through her hair, she bit back the hiss of pain as her movement pulled at her wound. Clamping her teeth in frustration, she tried to think of her next steps. They would want to look at the body, look at the chip. She could send them off to a tech from Shinji's list. The body would have to go to the Consulate, but she trusted Dr. Bell to be discrete.

"Captain," Rukia called out, "alert Dr. Bell that we have a body for her to examine."

"Yes, ma'am."

"Rukia."

She ignored Ashido and turned to Ichigo. "What happened?" She tried to keep her voice even. Without a doubt, Ichigo's delay wasn't his own doing. Given his concern for Sally and the danger Nnoitra presented, he would have cut off his right arm to make sure he was there on time. Something delayed him, and she was fairly certain that something was named Ashido.

Ichigo shot a withering glare towards Ashido, confirming her suspicions. Ashido quirked a handsome smile and combed his fingers through his disheveled burgundy hair. Another wave of nostalgia washed over her. She was quick to tamp it down and remember that it was his fault her back felt like it was on fire.

"Explain."

He winced at her tone, as if she'd slapped him in the face, but he was quick to mask the discomfort. He'd always been rather good at that.

"My team and I were headed towards the Consulate when we spotted suspicious activity."

"By 'suspicious' he means me tracking you and Nnoitra," Ichigo spat, now standing beside her. Agents had already gathered up Nnoitra's body and were putting him into the back of a vehicle parked in the alley. "This asshole and his crew blindsided me. They probably would have tried to hog tie me if Whitt hadn't shown up."

"I apologize. I picked up Rukia's scent and thought you were targeting her. It was an honest mistake. If it makes you feel better, you were doing a very good job of holding your own." Ashido gave him a smug smile. Ichigo didn't look impressed.

"The thought of asking me what I was doing didn't occur to you at all?"

Ashido turned away from him and spoke to Rukia directly. "You should get that looked at."

"Don't try to pull that deflection shit with me, Kano," Rukia warned him, using his last name against him like a slap to the wrist. "I haven't heard of the Japanese Council sending a delegation."

"Our arrival was supposed to be confidential."

"Not from me," she informed him. "As director of Hunter Operations, I am to be informed of all foreign visitors. So why wasn't I informed of you?"

"I," Ashido began hesitantly, "can't tell you."

Rukia narrowed her eyes and stepped up to Ashido. She wasn't sure exactly what she would say or do to him. The ideas ranged from flaying him and leaving the pieces in the alley to smacking him upside the head. The sound of metal sliding against metal surrounded them, interrupting her before she could act. Ashido's team was prepared to defend their leader, even when they were deep in foreign territory. Her own agents didn't draw their weapons, but they were ready to act if necessary.

"Agent Kano," she said cooly, "why don't you explain to your agents just how dangerous it is to threaten to attack a Councilor on foreign soil?"

A bemused smile spread across his lips. "Stand down."

Obediently, his men sheathed their weapons. Her agents relaxed but continued to watch the foreigners as they worked. It was best she take a more professional route and avoid maiming or hugging him. She wasn't entirely sure Ichigo would tolerate such affection after his experience. She also wasn't sure her back was up for it either. The fire had spread, leaving her to wonder if Nnoitra had spiked his sword with a different kind of toxin.

"Captain Whitt, please procure a vehicle to escort our friends to the Consulate." The Captain confirmed her order and called another vehicle to their location.

Ashido frowned, seemingly displeased with her official tone. She gave him no opportunity to ask, motioning for him to follow after the Captain. He sent her a questioning glance but ordered his men to follow him.

"I'm sorry."

Rukia glanced up at Ichigo with confusion.

"For?"

"Not listening to you at the club. Getting held up. Not being here when that douche bag attacked. Not having your back," he cringed at his poor choice of words. "Pick a reason."

"Is it that bad?"

"Remember how mine looked?"

It was difficult to forget the vicious tear across his abs, the exposed muscle and blood. "Yes."

"This is worse."

It was her turn to cringe, grateful she couldn't see it. She could feel it, that was certain. Now that the adrenaline was wearing off, she was finding it more difficult to move without eliciting a riot of pain. "I'll have Dr. Bell take a look at it. It should have healed by now, but I think he used a poison again, maybe one more potent than the last."

"I know we lost a lead, but I'm glad he's dead," Ichigo told her, taking her arm and guiding her towards one of the vehicles. Normally, she would have pulled away, finding the gesture condescending, but after tonight, after their fight, she was grateful he was even willing to speak to her.

"I want you to know," she said, slowing their walk to a stop, lowering her tone so it was more difficult for the others to hear her. "I was worried for Sally just as much as you were. I don't put people under my charge in danger for kicks. I know I crossed a line, made it difficult for you to believe me. Hell, I pretty much destroyed it. My reasons will never be good enough, but it made me realize that if we're going to get through this - all of this - then we need to be able to trust one another. If we can't do that, then we're never going to reach Aizen and deal with him. He'll see that weakness and manipulate it."

"Rukia-"

She couldn't make out the emotions in his eyes. There were simply too many; anger, sadness, disappointment, regret, all culminating in a convoluted color of dark honey. She didn't want to hear his rejection right now. She wanted to get the words out that she had been meaning to say since that day in the morgue.

"I know it's not an easy thing to forgive, after everything we've been through. I don't expect your forgiveness or trust to be so easily earned back, but I want you to know that I'm being sincere."

He was silent as he studied her, evaluating her. She wanted to tell him to take his time, but after Nnoitra's mysterious and sudden death, she wasn't entirely sure they had any more time to spare. Nnoitra had been convinced Aizen would kill him, and he'd been right. From another country, another location across the world, Aizen had known Nnoitra had been captured and had dealt with him accordingly.

"Do you?"

Ichigo's words pulled her from her thoughts. "Do I what?"

"Trust me?"

There was a flicker of hope and hesitance in his eyes. His muscles were tense with apprehension. He was just as afraid of her words as she was of his. It hurt that he had to ask, but she'd given him no reason to believe she did. If she was truly honest with herself, she hadn't trusted him. She hadn't trusted him to take control of his own life and prove to the beast he could be strong. Behind his back, she threatened the beast to buy him more time. Instead of trusting him with the truth, she doubted his ability and planned to prepare him without his knowledge.

He had never given her any real reason to doubt. Since they had met, Ichigo had only continued to surprise her. Every corner they turned, new revelation, Ichigo adapted and found a way to survive and move on. He had been a confused and curious human when she found him. Now, he was her guard and partner, helping her hunt down a treacherous criminal who ruined their lives. If there was any room for doubt, it was with her. If things were going to change, it was going to have to start with her.

Holding her head up with determination, Rukia gave Ichigo a soft smile.

"With my life."

* * *

 **Author's Notes:** A little bit of action, violence, and the addition of another familiar face! I hope you all enjoyed this chapter! It was a little longer than most of my other chapters, but I still enjoyed writing it. Please R&R and let me know your thought.

I don't know if anyone noticed, but I added book covers to this story and For Blood. They aren't great - I'm pretty sure I actually hate them and might take them down. I did have a couple I wanted to use that I found on Pinterest, but I couldn't find the source to determine if I had the right to use them. Definitely a bummer.

Thanks to those who followed and favorited! A special thanks to the guests, **BigNickDiggers** , **lightdesired,** and **yocel** who left comments - I've been really pleased with a lot of your questions and insights as you read the story. I would love to answer them and discuss them, but I don't want to give anything away. I hope you all keep enjoying the story!


	7. Chapter Six

**Author's Soundtrack:**

The Razor's Edge (Piano Version) by Digital Daggers

Photos in Darkness by Two Steps From Hell (line break)

* * *

 **Chapter Six**

* * *

"It was the chip."

Rukia tried to turn and look at Bell as she spoke, but the angle was difficult from her position on the bed. One of the medics finished cleaning Rukia's wound and prepared to inject an antidote into the raw flesh around the injury. She had tried to wave the medic away when they first arrived at the infirmary, but he wielded the syringe like a weapon and quickly silenced any of her protests.

Ichigo might have been amused and reminded her she'd shown no mercy when he'd been injured, except all he could feel was a heavy ball of guilt wrapped in self-loathing settling into the pit of his stomach.

He stood in the corner of the room, staring at the frayed tear that stretched the length of her back. The white bone of her spine peaked out from between the pink muscle and tissue, and he wondered if she knew just how close Nnoitra had been to severing her spine and crippling her.

There was no doubt she would heal. The flesh and muscles would mend themselves, and the skin would return to its unmarred olive perfection, but it didn't erase the grisly sight in front of him or the pain she was clearly feeling. She put on a brave face, only showing her discomfort with the occasional wince or quiet gasp. But he'd experienced what that weapon was like, the teeth gripping the flesh and shredding it as it tore through skin, muscle, and nerves, and his injury hadn't been as deep or as large as hers. She was amazing and infuriating, and he was glad they were speaking again.

She still hadn't told him what caused her reaction in the morgue, but there was no point in brooding about it. She'd declared her trust in him and he was going to take it to heart. Now they could fully focus on their mission to hunt Aizen down and be rid of him once and for all. Nnoitra's death was disappointing - though equally pleasing - but despite that, they were making progress. Staring at the chip in Bell's hand and her giddy smile, he was sure of it.

Ichigo had never seen the doctor look excited. For the most part, she was fairly severe. Her serious disposition helped keep rambunctious and argumentative patients from trying to intimidate or escape her treatments. That stony glare had worked on him more than once. He realized she was rather pretty when she smiled - and a little scary at the same time. There was a crazed glint of excitement in her green eyes that reminded him of a mad scientist.

"What was the chip?" Rukia grunted as she gave up and settled back on the bed.

"What caused the rogue's body to deteriorate. From what I can tell, the chip released a signal to the brain, convincing his body he was starving. In an attempt to keep itself from dying, it consumed his glycogen reserves, devoured his fatty acids. Then the cells began consuming the protein in his body, which resulted in the loss of his muscle mass -"

She stopped and realized Rukia wasn't interested in a complicated breakdown of the process. The joy in her smile dissipated slightly. "Basically his body ate itself to stay alive."

"That takes time, days," Rukia remarked, her voice strained as the medic sunk the needle into her back. "This happened in seconds."

The light was back. "That's where this gets interesting. Apparently, the chip also released a synthetic chemical that expedited the process. I'll need time to analyze and research it further, but from what I can tell, instead of allowing the body to naturally slow the metabolism this chemical accelerated it."

It made sense. Sort of. Ichigo wasn't entirely sure about the science behind it all, but it matched their experience with the other vampires they found. Marisa Pipers came to mind, her stomach near bursting with blood, but her body starved. Even if their bodies had been able to process what was in their stomachs, it wouldn't have saved them.

"Does it receive signals?" Rukia asked, resting on her elbows as the medic finished his treatment and began wrapping her torso. Ichigo turned his gaze, directing his attention towards the doctor instead of the slight, gentle curve of Rukia's bare chest. How could she not hear her brother's voice in her head lecturing her about modesty? _He_ certainly could.

"Potentially. I would imagine, with today's technology, as long as the chip is programmed for it and you have access to a satellite, you could send a signal. I recommend you have one of the techs take a look at it to confirm, though." Bell pursed her lips, clearly unhappy with the idea of handing the device over to anyone.

"If he used a satellite, maybe we can track him," Ichigo considered aloud.

The doctor shrugged. "It sounds feasible, but that's not really my field of expertise."

Ichigo and Rukia shared a look. It was possible they may have found a way to finally find Aizen.

The medic finished dressing Rukia's wound, and she sat up, slipping on a clean shirt. "Thanks, doctor. You've been very helpful."

"Of course." She handed Rukia a small bottle of pills. "We injected an antidote, but I recommend taking one of these every 12 hours for the next few days to help ensure the injury heals properly and quickly."

Rukia eyed the pills with distaste, but took them anyway and hopped off the bed.

"One more thing."

Ichigo could feel Rukia's irritation levels rising as Bell stopped them again.

"I found an interesting residue on the chest wound of our rogue. It was just around the edges on the surface, but there were small ice crystals that formed and burned their way into his skin. I thought they would melt in the heat of the room, but when I took a closer look, they were actually growing at a very slow rate. After a bit of studying, I noticed that as the temperature of the body continued to drop, their growth slowed as well."

The expression on Rukia's face was one of bored indifference. "Thank you, doctor. I'll add it to my report."

Rukia's reply baffled Bell, but she didn't press the issue and returned to her work. Ichigo was curious himself, but he wasn't going to ask her about it until they were somewhere free from prying eyes and ears. He was aware of her struggles with her power and any progress should have been exciting, and yet she didn't look particularly thrilled as they waited for the elevator. If anything, she looked grim. Was the pain from her wound getting to her?

Or perhaps she was thinking about Bell's revelation. Or maybe she was thinking about that asshole who'd gotten the jump on him. He scowled, irritated by the man's presence in his mind and London. Several questions itched at the back of his mind, but the potential answers made him hesitate asking them. Rukia had lived a long life. She might be young compared to other vampires, but 150 years was still a long time to him. There was her husband, but were there others? Did she remarry? Did she take any lovers? Was Ashido one of them?

Was it any of his business?

As the elevator doors opened, a man approached them from the hall.

"Councilor Kuchiki."

"Yes?" He could hear the exasperation in her voice. Her hand held the elevator doors open in hopes of being able to make a quick escape.

"Councilor Yadoumaru has requested you join her on a call with the Chancellor in his office."

Rukia frowned. "The Chancellor isn't here?"

"No, Councilor. He departed for the Gathering a few hours ago."

"Right." She waved a dismissive hand when Ichigo gave her a quizzical look. "And I suppose you don't have any insight as to what this meeting is about?"

"I'm afraid not, Councilor."

"Fine. Ichigo, you're coming with me." She stepped into the elevator and dragged him inside. When the door shut, she leaned awkwardly against the wall and he worried the medication the doctor had given her wasn't working. "If I'm going to suffer through a meeting with Shinji, you're going to suffer as well."

"What's a 'gathering'?"

She pursed her lips in consideration, her brow crinkling in thought and discomfort. "I suppose the simplest explanation is that it's a meeting of all Chancellors across the globe to discuss current rules and regulations. They review the last 50-100 years and determine if there need to be any adjustments to our laws." She shifted, trying to find a more comfortable position that would allow her to relax but not pull at her wound.

"I thought all Councils had their own rules."

"They do, which is why those meetings usually break down into arguments." She smirked bitterly. "Each Council prefers to maintain a certain level of freedom and control separate from the others, but there are core rules they all agree to."

"Keeping vampires hidden being one of them."

She nodded. "Correct. They're supposed to consider what is best for our race overall. It's a nice thought but rarely works like it should. Most of the time they just end up fighting, and sometimes the Gatherings end with some Councils targeting others."

"Sounds like a fun family reunion."

A small bubble of laughter echoed in the elevator. "I'm just glad I don't have to deal with them. Council politics are exhausting enough as it is."

Wasn't that the truth? Ichigo didn't envy Rukia her position as a councilor. She was expected to dedicate all of her time to the Council and her department. Even with the investigation, she still had to maintain appearances. She was overloaded, overworked, and he could see it wearing on her day after day. She tried to hide it behind thin layers of makeup, but he could see the wear and tear. And now she had an injury that would take even more out of her.

The elevator chimed and the doors opened. As they approached the office doors, Ichigo could hear muffled voices. The Chancellor's office was sound-proofed to a certain degree, making it difficult for even vampires to eavesdrop on important and confidential meetings, but they could still make out voices and tones.

Rukia gave three short knocks and waited. The door opened, and Lisa waved them inside.

" _Ah, Rukia, Ichigo, we were just speaking about you."_

A large television mounted on the side wall displayed Shinji's face. In the background, Ichigo could make out the elegant surroundings of the Council's private jet.

"Why do I find that worrisome?" Rukia replied sardonically.

"Because you should." Lisa closed the door and walked back to Shinji's desk. She sat in the chair and pressed her hands together in somber contemplation.

" _I don't like how comfortable you're making yourself in my office,"_ Shinji remarked flatly.

"You mean you don't like that I managed to organize and reduce the massive piles of paperwork in the few hours you've been gone?" Lisa shot back.

" _They were organized! And I was going to get to them eventually."_

Lisa raised a doubtful eyebrow. Shinji scoffed and pouted.

"Perhaps we could get to the reason for this meeting," Rukia suggested impatiently.

" _Right. First, could you explain why it is that every time you find a lead to Aizen they end up dead?"_

"For the same reason birds fly, fish swim, and you whine," she quipped. "Because they do."

Ichigo suppressed his chuckle into a tight-lipped smirk. Even Lisa looked amused as Shinji gapped at Rukia. Before he could recover, she continued, taking on a more serious tone.

"It wasn't our intention. It seems that Aizen was a step ahead of us, again. However, we've made a rather important discovery in the process. In our latest targets, we discovered a chip implanted in their brains. This chip, from what we can tell, acts as a kind of leash. Aizen can track and monitor these rogues. If they're captured, or he feels they're in danger of revealing too much about him, he triggers the chip to induce a deadly reaction in their bodies and release a chemical - both of which result in the target dying quickly and painfully."

"You're saying he managed to create a chip that allows him to not only track his minions but kill them instantly as well?" Lisa stared at her, not in disbelief, but with deep concern.

"The tracking is simple enough. The chips function like tags researchers use on animals. GPS tracking would allow him to know where they are exactly. Dr. Bell is the one who discovered the chip's other functionalities. It's still a theory, but she wants to do more testing and research. Given our previous experiences, I'd say this holds some weight.

"I'm going to be sending the chips to your contact, Shinji. I'm hoping he can pull more information from the chip, maybe even give us a way to find Aizen's location."

" _You'll want to take care of that sooner rather than later."_

Rukia studied Shinji. "Why?"

" _Lisa?"_

Lisa set a file on the desk. Inside were profiles for Ashido Kano and his team of 6. Ichigo recognized each of them from the rooftops. At the bottom of each page was their mission statement.

"To located the Lady and deliver a top secret message to her," he read aloud. Confused, he looked up at the others. Shinji and Lisa were serious, while Rukia was stunned.

"You're joking," she said with a hitch of laughter. "The Lady? What did Ashido do to have someone send him on this wild goose chase."

The shadow of curiosity ghosted across his mind, but he ignored it.

"I volunteered."

Ashido stood in the doorway, arms crossed in front of his chest, his expression guarded. Ichigo's chest tightened and he struggled to keep himself from moving in front of Rukia.

" _Please, show yourself in, Agent Kano. No need to knock."_ Shinji commented dryly.

"Why?" Rukia asked, ignoring Shinji's annoyance. "You can't honestly believe she exists."

"The mission was offered by someone I would give my life for. He wouldn't waste my time." His words were sharp, like a weapon drawn, warning Rukia to tread carefully. His change in demeanor was odd. A few minutes ago Ichigo was convinced they were lovers, now they seemed more like distant friends who parted on very unpleasant terms. "According to him, the Lady is real. She's alive, and she's living here in London."

"And you want permission to look for her."

"Correct."

Rukia looked doubtful. "You're skill set is wasted on this mission."

The complement seemed to ease some of the tension ratcheting in Ashido's posture and he gave her an easy smile. "If I get to meet with the Lady, I'll consider it worth the time."

" _Recognizing the friendly relations we've shared with the Japanese Council in the past decade, I don't see a problem with giving you access to our territory. An escort will be provided to help with your search."_ Shinji's offer seemed diplomatic enough, but the smirk hinted at something else.

"That won't be necessary," Ashido replied, rejecting Shinji's offer with a dismissive wave. "We have an address. One of my agents is confirming the information is up to date as we speak."

Shinji's lips began to spread into a wide, malicious smile. " _I apologize. I seem to have given you the impression that the escort is optional."_

The newly budding pleasant atmosphere died quickly as Ashido leveled a glare at Shinji. "Our mission is supposed to be secret. The more people involved, the more risk we run of it being leaked."

" _You either accept an escort or you can get on a flight back to Japan."_

Lisa shifted uncomfortably under the intense weight of the tension. Rukia was watching more with interest than concern. If she wasn't worried, Ichigo had no need to be bothered and chose to enjoy the showdown.

It was clear who was going to win - the person with the most authority. And even though he wasn't even in the room, Ashido conceded. His posture softened and he broke his gaze with Shinji. "Very well. I will accept the escort as long as it's Rukia Kuchiki."

Something possessive inside Ichigo snapped and a low growl rumbled in his chest. He felt a sharp jab in his stomach and the sound ceased immediately. Rukia shot him a warning glance and gave a single firm shake of her head.

" _Councilor Kuchiki has her own responsibilities, however, considering the sensitive nature of this mission and your previous relationship, I think we can lend her to you for a brief period of time."_

Ichigo gave Shinji a withering glare, but he was ignored.

"I'll be going as well," Ichigo declared. He might not get much say in whether Rukia was involved or not, but he sure as hell wasn't going to let her go off on her own - old alliances or not.

"No," Ashido replied curtly, "just Rukia. I have no interest in dealing with a pup."

"What did you call me?" Ichigo took a step towards him, but Rukia held out her hand. He snapped his eyes to her. Was she really going to agree to this? After what they had talked about?

"If I go, Ichigo goes."

Relief and gratitude quelled the irritation. Amusement joined them when Ashido looked surprised.

" _Ichigo Kurosaki is Councilor Kuchiki's bodyguard. They go as a pair. I'm sure you understand."_ Shinji's words were tactful in nature, but his tone was one of unquestioning authority. This decision would not be challenged. Ashido would agree to the terms or he would have to find another way to get in touch with the Lady.

Ashido expelled a sigh of defeat. "Very well. I'll be sure to inform you when we are ready to meet with her."

" _You are dismissed."_

Bowing, Ashido spared one last glance towards Rukia and then left the room. Once the door was shut, Shinji sighed in exasperation. " _I hate diplomatic shit."_

"That was you being diplomatic?" Lisa mocked. "I think a walrus could have maneuvered that conversation more gracefully."

" _Oh shut up,"_ Shinji snapped. " _My patience for bullshit is at an all-time low, which is just what I need considering I'm getting ready to swim with the bullshit masters of the world. At least he agreed to take Rukia and Ichigo, just like I told you he would. "_

"You think he was lying?" Lisa inquired, ignoring Shinji's whining and attempt to gloat.

" _Through his perfect white teeth."_

"So what do you think he's really up to?"

" _I believe him about finding the Lady - or at least someone who might be using her name. But he has more than a note to give her. You don't send someone like Ashido Kano to deliver a message."_

"I agree." Rukia added, her brow furrowed as she contemplated the elements of the situation. "Anyone can deliver a message. Ashido is a highly skilled spy for the Japanese Council. He's stealthy, dedicated, loyal, and very coercive. Despite him withholding information, I don't believe he's an enemy."

" _You hope, anyway."_

Rukia chose to ignore Shinji's remark. "Was there anything else you wanted to discuss?"

" _No. That was it. Keep me in the loop if you find anything out about the chip. I'll be sure we're on a secure line."_

Rukia nodded and turned to leave the office, Ichigo right on her heels. She was silent as they walked down the hall. Ashido was gone, probably to the guest rooms a few floors below. Was she thinking the same? Did she want to go and meet him?

Did it matter if she did?

He scolded himself. He had no right to involve himself with her and her old acquaintances. All of her ties with Japan had been severed. She couldn't call home and speak with her brother or friends. Ashido was a little piece of home. Who was he to take that from her?

She pressed the button to summon the elevator. Uncomfortable with the silence, and the thoughts he was having, Ichigo decided to ask about another piece of vampire lore.

"So, who is the Lady?"

"The Lady is a legend amongst vampires, an old women parents use to scare children into behaving. Kind of like the Slavic Baba Yaga or English Black Annis."

He stared at her blankly. "I have no idea what those are."

She rolled her eyes. "Basically old scary women who hunt children and eat them or wear their skin."

Ichigo gawked. "Who the hell tells their kids those kinds of stories?"

She gave him a quizzical look. "You're father never told you about Kuchisake Onna or Hanako?"

He thought for a moment and remembered his old man telling him about the beautiful woman with the sword wound that stretched from ear to ear, and a young girl who appears in toilets in vivid detail. When he was ten, he and a few friends had even tried to summon Hanako. Of course, his father had told him about more than just those two. It was a surprise he'd made it out of childhood without being permanently scarred. Then again, he was a vampire now. That had to say something.

"Right. Point taken."

The elevator doors opened. As they stepped inside, Rukia continued. "Supposedly, the Lady is one of the oldest vampires in existence. According to legend, she was around 2,000 years old when she disappeared."

"Is that a big deal? I thought vampires lived forever."

Tilting her head from side to side, Rukia hummed as she debated her next words. "Maybe. Maybe not. Immortality is the general assumption, but we don't actually know for sure. Most of us are killed by unnatural means - battles, political machinations, personal quarrels. We age, but very slowly. So, death could happen naturally, but there's no record of it. Excluding the Lady, Genryuusai is perhaps the oldest vampire we know of."

"What about the First?"

"Him too."

"Assuming she's real then, she's lived this long by outsmarting other vampires."

Rukia smirked. "You could say that. Legend says she's extremely intelligent, always out-maneuvering her enemies, and punishing children who are stupid and don't study. Another legend is that she demands complete loyalty from the few allowed to surround her. They're asked to sacrifice something important to prove she is the center of their world. If there's ever an inkling of doubt, she devours them."

Ichigo felt his body grow cold. "Devours them? Like, cook them for dinner and eat them?"

It was clear she was enjoying his discomfort. Her smirk widened and her eyes sparkled with mischief. "Not exactly. It's said she drains them of their blood, bathes in it, and then cooks the flesh. It's then fed to those who remain to serve as a warning of what happens to those who are not dedicated to her."

And then she laughed. The sound of it was rare and pleasant, like a sunny day in England, warm like the summer sun. He wanted to hear more of it, but just as quickly as she started, she stopped.

She chuckled in amusement. "They're just legends, crafted to scare temperamental children into behaving for their parents. There might be an inkling of truth, but the majority are exaggerations for better storytelling. No one wants to hear about the old lady who gives her subjects a slap on the wrist when they annoy her."

"I'm kind of glad I missed out on those stories."

"I'm sure," she said, laughter still dancing in her voice. "Instead you grew up with stories about women with scissors for hands, werewolves, and vampires."

"Ha ha. You're hilarious."

* * *

At the base of a forested mountain, hidden by canopies of green and unattended foliage was a solitary manor. Once extravagant, the large home had been left to decay. Large windows, expensive pavers, and handcrafted statues decorated the exterior, warping and crumbling from neglect and exposure to the elements. A large iron gate with dangerously speared tops prevented any trespassers from entering and warned others off. The driveway lead up to the house and circled around a dried and broken fountain filled with dead leaves. Two vehicles were parked in front.

Inside, the manor was in as much disrepair as the outside. Ten bedrooms were stuffy with stale air, their windows sealed from misuse. Moth and rodent chewed furniture were covered in large white sheets coated in thick layers of dust and debris. The kitchen begged for attention, and the finished basement was stained with large browning signs of water damage. In the basement's empty library, a bookcase was miraculously clean. Behind it was a stairwell that spiraled down into a narrow tunnel. It descended into darkness where the terrified and pained screams of men and women echoed.

At the end of the hall was a large steel door leading to another hallway with small lights bolted to the wall every few feet. Between each light was a thick door. Narrow windows near the top allowed for easy observation. A second slot near the bottom allowed for food. At the end of the hall was the control room, protected by another steel door. A camera was mounted above it, a red glowing light indicated it was recording. Inside was a wall full of screens and monitors, many of them looking into the small rooms behind the doors.

Halibel tapped her finger impatiently on the edge of her clipboard, watching the screens intently. She had hoped for faster results, but if she pushed too hard, the subjects would deteriorate and all her work would be ruined. And then there were the unknown side effects of the modifications. Aizen had expressed the importance of isolating and removing specific qualities and traits from the samples, but that removal resulted in instability that displayed in the subjects physically and mentally. Much to her frustration, she had failed to deliver a perfect specimen, and Aizen's tolerance for delays was dwindling quickly.

Numbers four and five were near completion. Ten and eight still required at least another week for development. Seven and nine would take a few more days. It should have appeased him to see progress, but only one seemed to hold his interest at this point. Her eyes flickered over to the monitor labeled "#01".

Inside she could see him, cowering in the corner like the first day he arrived. As far as she could tell, there was nothing special about him. She'd had more interesting results with that pain in the ass Nnoitra. With this one, he was nothing but typical and bland. His survival of the experiments so far said something, but other than that, there was nothing worth noting. His transformation time had been typical. His recovery typical. His Rage typical. Yet Aizen was fascinated with him.

"He will be the first."

Halibel swiveled in her chair and stood, quick to bow her head. Aizen stood in the doorway, an amused smirk hinting at the corners of his lips.

"Sir, I didn't realize you would be coming today."

"Is an announcement necessary when I'm returning to one of my own homes?" His pleasant voice sent freezing shivers sprawling across her skin and down her spine.

"Of course not, sir. I just meant that, since I wasn't expecting you, I don't have any tea prepared."

He walked into the room, dismissing her apprehension with a lazy wave of his hand. "I didn't come here for your tea, Halibel. I'm interested in how One is progressing."

She tried not to roll her eyes at the predictability of it. "As expected, sir. He has been in the Rage for two days. Given his trend of typical responses, I expect him to come out of it in another two days. I was planning on evaluating his behavior to see how the transformation has affected him as well."

"I'd like to see him. Open the door."

Halibel stared at him. "Sir, I don't think that's wise. In the Rage he could-"

Aizen turned his head slightly and looked at her. Her heart slammed to a halt. "Are you questioning me?"

Every nerve in her body seized. Dangerous. This was dangerous. "No, sir," she managed to get out without a stutter. "I will take you to him immediately."

Grabbing the keys from the table, Halibel entered the hall and made her way to the door with "#01" etched into a plaque on the wall. She wasn't necessarily concerned about him going wild and killing them. On the contrary, she didn't want to risk losing any more subjects. Of the new batch, One was the closest to being complete. As boring as she found him, he would still be able to provide her with important information.

And Aizen wanted to risk it just for a peek.

Taking a deep breath, she unlocked the door and held it open for Aizen. He moved past her and into the dark room. The attack she'd been expecting didn't come. When she looked inside, she saw Aizen standing in front of One. He was motionless, like a statue. She would have mistaken him for one with his pale skin, if not for the mop of black hair and brilliant green eyes that peered out from between the shaggy tresses.

"How fascinating," Aizen said after a few moments of silence. "It seems he's already finished with the Rage."

"That's-"

"We can begin the next phase shortly. Give him a bath and some clothes. He must appear presentable." Aizen started to leave when he paused, glancing back at the newborn vampire. "You will require a new name. How about. . . Ulquiorra?"

"Ulquiorra. . ." the newborn tested the name on his tongue but gave no sign of acceptance or rejection.

"Very good. Halibel, I look forward to seeing the next two completed. I have the perfect tests for my new breed of vampire."

* * *

 **Author's Notes:** Sorry for the slightly delayed update! I was feeling a bit down this week and didn't get to proofing this chapter until today. We're learning a bit more about the vampire world and getting a sneak peek at what our favorite villain is up to.

Thanks to those who followed and favorited, and to **Haru, lightdesired, and girlcardisme** who left reviews. Haru, I couldn't reply to you privately since you used a guest account, but those are some great questions. You'll just have to keep reading to find out the answers ;). I hope you all continue to enjoy the story! Please continue to R &R. I love hearing from you guys!


	8. Chapter Seven

**Author's Soundtrack:**

King by Romanovs  
Sweet Dreams by Marilyn Manson (line break)

* * *

 **Chapter Seven**

* * *

On the corner of Kensington Rd. and Rutland Gate stood a large, white, stuccoed house with five floors of tall windows, private balconies, and an impressive double door entrance protected by a long rod-iron fence. It was sizable, and box-shaped, and nothing like what Rukia imagined the Lady would live in if she truly existed. She was ancient, had experienced thousands of years of art and architecture. Shouldn't she be living in something old, and grand, and not in the middle of the city?

There wasn't anything particularly awful about it. By modern standards it was simplistic in design and classic in its own right. Flanked by expensive apartment and townhomes, it looked like just another house. A sprawling estate in the middle of the country, surrounded by old woods and beautiful landscapes - wasn't that where someone of the Lady's reputation belonged? She couldn't tell if she was disappointed or impressed by the practicality and unpredictability of it.

"This is where she lives?"

Rukia glanced at Ichigo as he looked up at the house, rather unimpressed. It seemed he felt the same way she did. Ashido stood on her other side, stared at the building. He was studying it, looking for different points of entry and possible escape routes. Everywhere he went, every building he stepped into, he searched for the same things. Having trained with him, she had done the same. She already had several exits for each floor.

"Hideki confirmed the address is correct. He's been watching the house for a few hours. Activity is minimal, and the information has the building in someone else's name, but it matches the intel I received."

"That doesn't exactly breed confidence," Ichigo remarked with a snide smile. Ashido shot him a look. Rukia sighed, seeing a lot of childish fights in her future. They snipped at and prodded one another like siblings, trying to rile the other until mother stepped in and smacked some sense into both of them. Ichigo and Renji had a similar relationship when they'd met. She was doomed to be surrounded by petty battles.

"My team will stay put, keep an eye on the outside and offer assistance if we run into trouble."

Scanning the streets that ran along the manor's two sides, Rukia caught sight of a few of Ashido's agents. Were it night, they might have been hiding discreetly in various places, but in the middle of the day they chose to disguise themselves as casual pedestrians and tourists. If not for the mix of other people, they would have stuck out like sore thumbs. No amount of skill was going to hide several Japanese foreigners surrounding a building.

"Are you expecting trouble?"

"I always expect trouble." Ashido smirked at Ichigo. Rukia rolled her eyes.

Preferring to avoid another series of jabs, Rukia crossed the street to the gated entrance. They fell into step beside her. They were quiet, but she could feel their silent barbs. Was she going to have to deal with this the whole time?

When they reached the gate, Ashido pressed a button on the intercom.

A male voice crackled through the speaker. " _How may I help you?"_

"I apologize for the intrusion, but we request an audience with the Lady."

Without missing a beat, the man on the other end responded politely. " _I apologize, sir, but I believe you have the wrong address. Crown Prince Sultan Bin Abdulaziz owns and lives at this property, and he is currently out of the country."_

True enough. Hideki had confirmed the name on the paperwork was the Saudi Prince Sultan Bin Abdulaziz. It had been owned by a Lebanese Prime Minister before that, until he had been murdered several years prior. From her own research, neither man visited the property frequently. It wasn't uncommon for people of wealth to own multiple properties, and visit only when it was convenient for them or the mood struck. But the limited amount of time the owners had spent at this manor was beyond questionable. At most, they had stayed a total of five days a year, even when they had business in the city. Why purchase a lavish hotel suite when a luxurious manor was already available?

With a little bit more digging, it was easy to find all the signs that the owners were only that by name, and the manor belonged to someone else entirely. The question that was nagging her was why they were playing up the cover with Ashido.

"Isn't she expecting you?" Her irritation flickered to life when Ashido gave her a sideways look she knew all too well.

"Not quite," he admitted. "My source hasn't been able to get in touch with her for some time. He's grown concerned, and thought a face-to-face visit would kill two birds with one stone: confirm she's alive and deliver the message."

His gaze fell back to the intercom and his features hardened into something more stubborn. "I won't let some doorman get in my way."

"He could be telling you the truth," Ichigo offered, but it was clear he didn't even believe it himself.

"The prince is a cover." Rukia was pleased Ashido's tone with Ichigo was more informative and less mocking. "She's been known to buy properties through friends. Originally, this house was 'owned' by a Lebanese Prime Minister, but when he was assassinated she was left in a bit of a conundrum. She could move or find another buyer. She convinced the prince to 'buy' the property."

"The paperwork must have been a nightmare," Rukia remarked, imagining all the contracts that needed to be signed with a normal purchase.

"Unless you know who's palm to grease." Ashido pressed the button again.

" _Sir, I already told you-"_

"Enough with the song and dance. I have a message from Chancellor Yamamoto Genryuusai."

Rukia wasn't sure if she was supposed to be surprised by the revelation that Ashido's source was the Japanese Chancellor, but she wasn't. Not many had the authority or sway with Ashido to get him to shirk his normal duties. The Chancellor was the only one who made sense. It did make her wonder. If he knew the Lady, what other secrets the old vampire was hiding? Given his age, he was bound to have quite a few.

The intercom was quiet for a moment, and then the gates opened smoothly.

They headed towards the front door, where an older man in a tuxedo was waiting for them, and motioned for them to enter into the foray. The long hall was simple except for the intricate crown molding and vintage medallions attached to the ceiling, spanning the length of the hall.

It was elegant in a simple fashion, much like the exterior of the manor. She had hoped the interior boasted more intriguing and impressive fixtures. Where were the old and rare pieces of art that could only be gathered and cared for by someone who lived when they were created? Then again, perhaps the Lady wasn't so attached to history. She had lived it after all. But even for Rukia, in her 150 years of life, she had come to appreciate and value what the world crafted during that time. Back in Japan she still owned a series of paintings from the 1890s her father had gotten her during his travels.

The first indication that the Lady had some interest in the arts and the past was the sitting room. The butler opened the double doors to the medium sized room. The walls were white, but the furniture and woodwork were intricate enough to make up for the lack of color. The windows were framed by thick window casings with sophisticated designs carved into the top and corners. The furniture reminded her of 19th century France with ornate wood frames that stretched across the backs and down the sides to create the legs. The fabric was a delicate baroque pattern with a hint of yellow that reflected the light color onto the walls in the afternoon sun. Display cases were filled with vases, dishes, and other items of historic beauty from around the world.

"Please wait here while I speak with the madam. I shall be back momentarily."

Rukia hardly noticed the man bow and leave, her eyes following the elegant curves of the coffee table. Ashido studied one of the glass displays and the Hannya mask inside it. Ichigo stood frozen in a corner, trying to stay as far away from everything as physically possible.

"Who has this kind of furniture for their living room? You can't sit on any of it."

"I'm sure it's fine. Considering her age, I doubt she's grown any real attachment to material things." Ashido threw himself onto one of the chairs. Ichigo eyed him suspiciously and chose to remain standing.

"That's a bold assumption considering you've never met the woman," Rukia reminded him. He shrugged.

"The Lady will see you now."

The three of them stared at the butler. He'd snuck up on them, easing in and out the room without a sound. It was clear he was a vampire from the way he carried himself and his scent, but his stealth was another skill entirely. Subtly, it showed the Lady did not employee useless people, even if they were just answering the door and showing people around. They were talented and loyal.

The thought of the Lady's rumored tactics for breeding allegiance and weeding out the weak ghosted across her mind.

"I'll see you in a few minutes. It shouldn't take too long." Ashido stood and joined the butler at the doorway, but he didn't move.

"She will see _all_ of you," he clarified.

"They're here as my escort and members of the British Council. Chancellor Genryuusai-"

"Has no authority within this household." The butler leveled a demeaning stare at Ashido. It was quite impressive, given he was a solid two feet shorter than Ashido. "The Lady will see all three or none of you."

Offering Ashido an innocent shrug, Rukia stepped into the hall with Ichigo beside her. She wasn't going to miss an opportunity to see the legend in real life, and hearing what message Genryuusai had for her was a bonus. Ashido continued to glare at the butler's back as he guided them down the hall.

The number of doors lining the hall was rather impressive. What was behind each one of them? Were the rooms just as elegant, were they more simple and up to date, or were they used for storage? It was unlikely the Lady held many parties or entertained guests, so there would be no need to keep them occupied with furniture.

Rukia's hand itched to grab the handle of a door and peek inside. As if sensing her anxiety, the butler glanced back at her. She clenched her fingers closed to keep her hand from acting on its own and embarrassing herself by being rude.

The room they were led to was much larger than the sitting room. It was long and dark, the curtains drawn over the tall, floor to ceiling windows. The crown molding was more ornate than what was in the hall, being several inches taller with more dips and curves. Golden medallions gave the ceiling a touch of character, and crystal chandeliers dropping down from each one like sparkling teardrops. Rows of sofas lined the nearest wall, leaving the large open space empty, echoing of days when it was filled with people and light. A shaft of bright sunlight pierced through the darkness, the only window unveiled, illuminating a chaise where a woman reclined. Her gaze focused on something outside the window.

"Madam, your guests."

The butler bowed deeply but didn't move past the doorway. When she didn't look towards them, he motioned for them to enter. As they stepped onto the deep wood floors, he closed the doors. None of them moved.

"Is it childish fears perpetuated by the parents or propriety which keeps you from approaching?" Her voice was smooth as silk, deep and accented with a strange mix of British and something almost Middle Eastern. In it, the sneer was very evident.

Ashido was the first to step forward, stopping only once he was at her side. Rukia and Ichigo were close behind him.

The woman relaxing on the chaise was considerably younger than Rukia would have expected. Genryuusai was the oldest vampire she knew, and at nearly 1,000 years old, he appeared to be in his late 80s. But the woman, the Lady, was supposed to be over 2 millennia old, and yet she looked a very healthy 50. Silky black waves were pulled into a graceful pile on top of her head, with a thick streak of white coursing through it like a bolt of lightning. Skin of natural bronze and eyes the turned up at the corners hinted at her ancient origins. And it was her eyes that were the most intriguing thing about her physically. It was difficult to tell what color they had been before, but now they were almost completely white, as if a thick film had settled on the surface. Rukia thought her blind, but the barely visible circles where her pupils might have been jumped to each of them as if she could see clear as day.

"Are you going to continue to stare at me all day or are you going to give me my son's message?"

The three of them started.

"Genryuusai is your son?" She almost regretted asking as those glistening pearls turned towards her.

"I suppose it depends on your definition of the term. Did I bear him for nine months after sharing a lust fueled week in the bed of a man who had far too much power and not enough intelligence?" Her lips curled in mockery. "No. Our relationship is one more common to our kind. I found him, wandering the streets of a ruined village. Family and friends alike all slaughtered, many of their remains burned along with their houses.

"He wanted revenge, I wanted a companion. I figured he could keep me entertained for a couple of centuries." Her eyes wandered back to the window, smirking as she drifted off into her memories. "I was his benefactor. I changed him, taught him, raised him, provided for him. It was the least I could do. He was quite entertaining indeed."

And then the smile faded and she scowled. "Apparently I spoiled him, considering he only reaches out to me - by proxy mind you - only when he needs something. And he's always whining and complaining. You'd think a man of his standing would have grown a pair in the last five hundred years."

Genryuusai had been rebuked, like a child. The most powerful vampire Rukia knew, the one who managed to build the Councils from blood and war, who earned the respect of nearly every vampire in the world, and this woman treated him like a sniveling bratty child. Ichigo was grinning, clearly enjoying the rapid dismantling of Genryuusai's character. She elbowed him in the ribs.

"I apologize, madam," Ashido said, clearing his throat. Rukia wasn't sure if it was to disguise his own amusement or choke down the insult for his Chancellor.

Those white eyes snapped to him. "Whatever for?" She demanded impatiently. "Don't apologize for your superior's mistakes and short-comings. That's his problem, not yours. Now, what is it he wants this time?"

"He. . ." Ashido hesitated. The pointed glare the Lady shot at him indicated she was ready to lay into him if he didn't hurry up. She was surprisingly impatient for someone who had lived so long. "He was hoping you could share the location of the First."

Rukia wasn't prepared for the loud bark of laughter breaking down into something similar to hysterics. With the Lady's severe appearance and bristling personality, she didn't think her capable of expressing amusement beyond a sneer. It was almost enough to distract her from the subject of the question.

The Japanese Council - no, Genryuusai - was searching for the First vampire, their creator.

"I do-" The Lady tried to catch her breath, "I do apologize." She wiped at her eyes although no tears fell. "Child, I thank you. I haven't laughed like that in nearly 600 years."

But Ashido wasn't laughing. His cheeks were tinged with pink, the only indication of his mortification, but otherwise, he looked deadly serious. "It isn't a joke."

Her laughter subsided into an amused smirk. "It most certainly is. Why does my idiotic son believe I know the location of the First? The man is a legend, a whisper to help satiate the curious minds of our people who wonder what all sentient beings wonder: where do we come from? To believe anything else would simply be absurd."

But Rukia knew better. Her family knew better.

"You're a legend, a whisper to scare children."

The Lady's dulled eyes turned to Ichigo, her lips pressing into a thin line. Warning bells went off, and Rukia shifted protectively in front of him. But rather than lash out, the Lady tilted her head, as if trying to get a different perspective.

The corners of her lips curved upwards ever so slightly. "A valid point, child. I suppose you have me there."

Turning her attention back to Ashido, the smile faded once more. "Assuming, for some reason, I believe the First truly exists and am privy to his more recent alias and whereabouts, why would I tell you where to find him? And don't bother with frivolous excuses about secrecy. I have no patience for political games at this point in my life. You will tell me directly or you will leave promptly."

"Very well," Ashido said. His eyes shifted to Rukia for a moment and then back to the Lady. "There is a man who managed to find and consume the blood of the First."

"Oh?" She asked with a lilt to her voice. "How exactly did this man manage that?"

She played a good game, despite having no patience for it. It was faint, but Rukia could see the hints of interest, especially when those dead eyes flickered toward her. This woman knew the First. Not only that, she knew what his blood did to those who drank it. The question was, did Ashido and the Japanese Council? Had they discovered the truth Shinji had tried to keep hidden away?

"Originally, he was a well-respected member of the Japanese Council, holding a first seat of the Fifth House." The Lady scowled, uninterested in titles she knew nothing about. Ashido continued. "His motives were unknown to everyone except for the previous Chancellor of the British Council and his immediate subordinate. He worked to destabilize the Japanese Council by destroying our food supply, which helped distract from his true intention: to search for and locate an artifact passed down through the Fumiko family line. He found it and drank from it."

A bubble of laughter threatened to burst from Rukia's throat. Could what have happened to her be summarized so easily? What Aizen did to her - to Ichigo - was nothing more than a few words in a sentence. The pain they suffered not even worth mentioning. It hurt her heart the way Ashido explained the situation with such distance. Then again, she did little to nurture their relationship after she left, and if he didn't learn to cut emotional ties he could never do his job.

The Lady scoffed dismissively. "Sounds like he made a fool out of the lot of you, especially my son."

"Sousuke Aizen is a patient and calculating man," Rukia cut in. The hurt still stung, but she twisted it into something close to the anger she was more comfortable with. It helped that she felt personally insulted by her. "His motives are not so easily discerned. He is exceptional at planning, hiding, manipulating, revealing himself and his intentions only when it is too late."

The air grew thick as the Lady evaluated her, but Rukia would not back down. No one could have predicted Aizen's betrayal. No one could have known what he was searching for. No one would have believed it. To presume he could have been stopped was a comfort afforded to those who listened to the story and had the benefit of hindsight.

"You sing his praises," the Lady mused after a few minutes. The words were like a slap to the face and Rukia curled her nose at the accusation.

"I do nothing of the sort," she practically spat, "but I will not pretend he is an idiot whose actions can be predicted with observation when he is not."

Those white eyes studied her and seemed to approve of what they saw. "Good. Ignorance and pride only serve to get people killed."

She looked out the window again. Outside was Hyde Park. The lush green landscape was a pleasant reprieve from the concrete streets and buildings.

"With what purpose are you requesting to meet the First? What is it you hope to accomplish?"

"Aizen believes himself immortal," Ashido continued. His gray eyes slid over to Rukia for a moment, as if there were questions he had for her, and then returned to their host. "A true immortal. We would like to meet with the First and have him tell us if what Aizen believes is accurate and, if so, how we can stop him."

"Pointless," she said with a wave of her hand.

Ashido frowned and shifted uncomfortably. "And why is that?"

"You presume the First would have any interest in telling you how to defeat a true immortal. By giving you that information, what would prevent you from turning against him?"

"Why would we try to kill the First?"

She shrugged. "Who knows. We vampires are fickle things, a remnant of our humanity I suppose. You may find yourself loyal to the creator, but who is to say the same for someone like Aizen or another? And you cannot claim to know the intentions of those who have not yet been born."

Turning to face them, she tilted her head back and set her jaw. Her following words heavy with an ominous tone of a wizened oracle.

"It is safer to assume there is no way to kill a true immortal. Capture him, imprison him. That should keep him out of trouble. Let him spend all his days suffering for his traitorous decisions. Death will not hound his footsteps. He will not grow old. War will not kill him. Hunger will not slow him. He will live on and die only when the planet itself is consumed by the sun."

A chill ran through Rukia like a lance. The words were not only meant for Ashido to heed as a warning, but for herself as well. For the first time in a long time, she felt despair. Aizen could not be killed, and neither could she, but those around her could. She could lose everyone in her life and spend her days alone and unknown. One day, she might become a legend herself, and she feared it.

Ichigo set a warm hand on her shoulder, chasing away the worst of the dread, but it still stalked along the edges of her mind.

"Lock him up? That's your solution?" Ashido was unfazed and unimpressed.

The deep breath the Lady took was one asking for patience from above. "What you choose to do with that man is entirely your choice. I care very little about your intentions. But if imprisonment is your solution, be sure to impress the importance of keeping him restrained to your great grandchildren lest they grow complacent or even curious." Her lips spread in a malicious grin, revealing long, glistening, pointed fangs.

"I'll keep your warning in mind," Ashido remarked blandly. "However, I would still like to speak with the First about this."

She tapped a long finger on her chin, still smiling. "Very well. I cannot promise he will see you, but your chances are higher if you bring her with you." She pointed towards Rukia. "Wilford will give you the most recent name he's using. Now leave. I'm exhausted."

Wilford, the butler, was now standing at the door of the room. He stiffly motioned for them to exit. When they were out in the hall, he bowed to his madam and closed the door, then led them towards the entrance.

"The name of the man you are searching for is Coyote Starrk," Wilford offered, handing Ashido a manila folder. Rukia itched to take the file from him and open it herself. Inside it contained information, potential proof of the First, their creator, and her only living blood relative. Even with his blood flowing through her veins, he was still just a name, an unknown, unseen person.

"I took the liberty of gathering some additional information you may find beneficial. I suggest you begin your search in New York City. He favors that part of the world this time of the year, though I'll never understand why."

Before they could ask any other questions, he opened the door and ushered them back into the crisp midday air to begin a new hunt.

* * *

The tip of her heel caught on a crack in the sidewalk, causing her to trip and stumble in the dark alleyway. Hands spread out, she caught herself on the slick, rough brick of the building. It stung, the rough surface scraping the palms of her hands, but she only laughed at her own clumsiness. Righting herself, her unsteady legs wobbled and she felt like she was riding on a boat. Excited about the prospect, she rose her hands in the air and exclaimed "Whee!" in a series of giggles and tumbled to the ground. The force of hitting the pavement jarred her into temporary sobriety. Finding herself on her hands and knees, both burning like they were on fire, she took a shaky breath.

The flickering red neon sign from a closed pawn shop gave her enough light to evaluate the damage to her hands. She winced, seeing tiny pieces of broken glass buried in the heels of her palms and knew her knees were in similar condition. Her stomach lurched, either from the sight of blood or in protest of her over-indulgent drinking, and she heaved its contents onto the blacktop.

The ride wasn't fun anymore. Wiping her mouth with her arm, she took a few deep breaths and tried to get to her feet. She made the mistake - one of many tonight - of bracing herself with her injured hands. A flash of pain shot through her arms and she quickly stepped away, glaring at the wall as if it had been the one to attack her.

Something shifted behind her, sending a chill shooting through her body, freezing her in place. Hesitantly, she looked into the darkened space, studying it intently for any other signs of movement. A menagerie of potentially terrifying creatures that could be lurking in those shadows hounded her drunken senses. Big Foot? Chupacabra? That creepy nerd in 5A? Another shiver ran down her spine and she regretted not packing her mace.

A pair of feet, just at the lip of the shadow, slid out of sight. They were tattered and torn with age and wear, just like the hairy wrinkled legs that wore them. The heavy smell of urine, booze, and something else she didn't want to think about assaulted her senses. It was some homeless man. Or woman. Maybe both? None? Fuck, she didn't know. They were probably just trying to sleep for the night. Her head pounded against her skull, demanding proper hydration and sleep. The ache on her hands and knees pulsed and throbbed. Maybe she should go to a hospital. Was that six blocks to the right or left?

A heavy hand fell on her shoulder and she screamed, wheeling around and wildly swinging her purse like a club. The motion pulled her to the left and she pitched forward into the waiting arms of a stranger. Strong hands braced her on either side and a strange mix of smells washed over her, like a mojito and a shot of 100 proof vodka. She snorted. That sounded terrible.

"Are you alright, miss?"

His voice was surprisingly smooth and comforting, clashing violently with the tight, possessive grip he had on her shoulders. Alarms sounded violently in her mind, hammering loudly and screaming for her to run. She almost listened, trying to step back with some excuse on her tongue, and then she looked up and was captivated.

Beautiful eyes captured her breath. Their strange color of electric blue margarita - no, that wasn't right, there wasn't enough depth - of the Caribbean waters off the coast of St. Thomas - that was better - was staggering. Dark black hair that danced in the wind tunnel of the alley only made the color seem more vivid and shocking. His lips pulled into a gentle smile and her fear eased.

"I didn't mean to startle you. When I saw you turn down this alley I got a little concerned. These kinds of places can be dangerous, especially for a woman walking alone."

Gorgeous, great voice, and a gentleman? How many nights had she tried to find Mr. Right in the clubs and on blind dates only to find him by tripping down an alley?

"Is a'right. Thisis the fastest way t'my place." Her words came out slow and slurred, making her sound like an idiot. She finally lands a hot guy and he probably thinks she's a simpleton. A playful smile slipped onto her lips. She could show him that she wasn't, she just had to get him into her bed.

"Probably still not the best idea to walk home alone. You should call a cab."

She frowned when he didn't offer to walk her back. Wasn't that the gentlemanly thing to do? Chivalry was clearly dead.

"I'm not 'lone now." Giving him a meaningful stare. The curve of his lips widened slightly and she felt a thrill of excitement - and something else she chose to ignore.

"I suppose you aren't."

* * *

 **Author's Notes:** Guess who! No, really, guess! Although I suppose it really isn't that hard. I hope you all enjoyed the Lady. I had fun writing her. There's always something enjoyable about characters who are snarky, especially someone who can set down the all powerful Genryuusai.

A few of you have been wondering as to when we're going to see more of the characters from the Bleach universe. I know I have a bunch of original characters at the moment. That probably won't go away entirely, but each person has a role to play. If it makes you feel better, you will see more familiar faces in the next chapter.

Just as a note, if you've made it this far and haven't read **For Blood** I recommend you go read it. It's the first part to this story and contains, well, everything that explains what's going on in this story lol.

Thanks to all those who favorited and followed this story. It really means a lot to me that you all enjoy this story enough to add it to your favorites list and can't wait to read the next chapter. Thanks to **Haru** , **lightdesired** , **girlcardisme** , and **IchiRuki** for your reviews, questions, and comments on male measuring contests lol. Thanks again for reading and please R &R! I love hearing what you guys think and how you feel about each chapter!


	9. Chapter Eight

**Author's Notes:** Normally I try to save my comments for the end of the chapter, that way you folks can dive straight into the reading, but there are a couple of things I wanted to say before you start.

First, I did something that I hoped I would never have to do, and that was to delete a review. I really appreciate everyone who reads this story and takes the time to write down their thoughts and opinions, but the one that was left was rude, uncalled for, and unrelated to the story itself. I'm open to constructive criticism, but this review was written to intentionally bully myself and my readers. Everyone is on this site to enjoy reading stories about their favorite shows/manga, whether they're an extension of the original universe or something else entirely. While I respect the original authors and the worlds they created, we're hear to tell our own stories. If you don't like the pairings, that's fine. If you don't like what the story is about, that's fine. But that is no excuse to attack others because they like something different from you. If you don't like it, don't read it.

Given the tensions that seem to exist between some readers regarding the Bleach love interests, I thought it was only fair that I warn you that this chapter introduces a very familiar, very contentious character - Orihime. I ask - _**beg even**_ \- that you please don't skip this chapter out of contempt for Orihime. I understand not a lot of people like her for various reasons, I'm certainly not a fan of her portrayal in the manga/anime, but her existence in this story is set and rather important in its own way, and she is written how I want her to be. I feel that Kubo missed a lot of opportunities for Orihime, and this is me trying to redeem her in my own way. Please, _**please**_ give my Orihime a chance. I hope that by the end of this story you will find that you dislike her a little less.

That being said - please enjoy!

 **Author's Soundtrack:**

 **They Will Fall Like Roses by of Verona**

* * *

 **Chapter Eight**

* * *

"This afternoon, the body of Amber Cunningham, age 22, was found by city employees. She was discovered behind a dumpster on Centennial Avenue, mutilated and drained of blood. Police Chief Jim Rodriguez has refused to make a statement so far, but many are speculating that young Amber is yet another tragic victim of the New York Dracula."

Orihime Inoue glanced sideways at the female reporter standing under the glaring light mounted on top of the camera pointed at her. She was one of many. At least a dozen reporters and cameramen skirted the edge of the yellow Crime Scene tape in hopes of being the first to catch dramatic footage or a piece of new information - all for the sake of their ratings. They said kind words, put on sympathetic appearances, but no one really cared about the victim or her family. Common decency and honest reporting had died over a decade ago. Now it was all about the money.

The reporter called for the camera to stop recording and reapplied her makeup. Orihime rolled her eyes and pushed past the vultures, ducking beneath the crime scene tape. An officer with a clipboard blocked her path as she straightened.

"Excuse me, ma'am, you're not allowed past the tape."

She tried not to pout. When had she ventured from "miss" to "ma'am"? She was sure she still looked 21.

Ignoring the officer's command, her eyes fell on the scene behind him. Several detectives and members of the NYPD crime scene investigators were surrounding the body of the New York Dracula's latest victim. The girl's twisted corpse lay discarded on the sidewalk, a blanket placed haphazardly on top of her in some careless attempt to hide her from the cameras. The corner of the building was doing more good than that damned piece of fabric, but it gave her a chance to get a peek at the body.

The dead girl's pallor was an abnormal shade of pale blue when Orihime was sure it was supposed to be a healthy bronze. Platinum blond locks were matted with blood and dirt. Muted orbs of hazel stared up at the open sky. Her body was still clothed, not a single piece of fabric out of place. The blanket was covering the wound, but Orihime would bet an entire month's rent the muscles and tendons around the base of her neck were ripped to shreds like pulled pork.

Orihime cringed. Great. Now she had a craving for pork. She'd have to pick some up on her way home. There was a jar of cranberry sauce she was sure would taste amazing layered on top of the savory flavor of the meat.

"Ma'am," the officer said more sternly, ballsy enough to take a step closer to her, "this is an active crime scene. If you don't leave I'll have to arrest you."

Finally giving him her full attention, Orihime gave him a sweet smile, swiping away a strand of auburn hair from her eyes. "You could certainly try, but I wouldn't recommend it."

Holding up the gold badge hanging around her neck by a silver chain, she gave him a patient smile. The large letters "FBI" and "Special Agent" glistened in the afternoon soon.

He looked at her skeptically and crossed his arms, bulking up his appearance like a territorial male bird. "I didn't hear anything about this investigation being handed over to the feds."

Not an uncommon reaction when she told most people she was an agent. Local law enforcement didn't appreciate the federal government coming in and stepping on their toes, throwing their weight around. To top it off, she wasn't exactly dressed like an agent. Most wore stiff black suits and large aviator sunglasses that screamed "Government Cover Up".

Orihime, on the other hand, was dressed in a comfortable pair of slacks and a colorful button-down blouse that exposed just enough of her cleavage to catch people off guard. While they were gawking, she had time to assess and evaluate the situation around her. Chestnut colored hair was tied up in a ponytail, keeping her vision clear. She still wore the aviators, but that was because she liked the style.

Dropping her badge so it dangled ostentatiously between her breasts, Orihime flashed him a sweet smile. She could hear him swallow the lump in his throat even without her refined senses.

"Don't worry, I'm not here to tread on anyone's toes, just to take a gander at the case, see how things are going." She moved to step around the officer, but he shifted and cut her off. Studying his face and seeing the determined clench of his jaw, she sighed. "Do you need to hear it from a superior?"

"Yes, actually. We can't have random people wandering in and out, exposing the scene to more unrelated evidence than necessary, and if you're not here officially, I would consider that unnecessary."

Ballsy, talking to an agent like that, but the chickpea wasn't wrong and she appreciated the intelligent tenacity. How would chickpeas taste coated in raspberry jam?

Her stomach grumbled quietly. She really needed to stop thinking about food. Pulling out her phone, she dialed.

" _Operator."_

"This in Agent Inoue, I'm at the crime scene of the latest Dracula victim. Officer. . ."

"Riggs."

"Riggs needs permission from a superior officer to grant me admittance."

" _Connecting."_

The phone rang for a few seconds before it was picked up on the other end.

"Chief Rodriguez? It's Agent Inoue. I'm at the crime scene, but one of your boys in blue isn't letting me through. Very thorough, but if you would be so kind as to explain the situation. . ." With a gentle smile, she handed the phone to the officer. He stared at it with mild confusion before taking it.

"Officer Riggs." He paused and then his eyes widened expectantly. "Yes, sir. Of course, sir. I'll help her in any way I can, sir."

Guilt briefly tugged at her. His tan skin was just a few shades paler as he hung up and passed her the phone. The speed with which he regained some of his composure and motioned for her to pass was impressive. With a nod of appreciation and a compassionate smile, she continued deeper into the crime scene.

A small group of people continued to surround the body. A young man waved his arms excitedly, his expressions animated as he practically danced around the deceased. Several of the crime scene investigators shot him deadly glares as they tried to collect evidence and take pictures.

"I'm telling you, Kouga, it's a vampire - a real vampire!"

Kouga, the young man's partner and an older man with dark skin and a frown etched into his features, studied the body with a solemn expression. Unlike the kid, Detective Kouga was bulky, more from working out rather than eating too many donuts, and stood nearly a head taller than his comrade. If he was aiming for "intimidating" he was succeeding. No criminal would want to run into him in a dark alley. Even the other people working on the scene were eying him cautiously.

"Cain, how many times do I have to tell you?" Kouga asked with a patient sigh. Tugging at his slacks, he knelt beside the victim and adjusted the blanket so the body was properly covered. "He just wants you to think that way. The guy is clearly in love with the occult and is either trying to convince himself he's really a vampire or he just likes fucking with us. I'm leaning towards the latter. Either way, these are the actions of a man. A _human_ man."

Cain didn't look convinced. Crouching beside Kouga, he lifted the blanket just enough to show the ground around her. "But how do you explain how he drains the victims of their blood and why there's barely any of it on the ground?"

"By hanging the bodies by the feet, cutting into the jugular, and letting gravity and the heart do all the work for him." The detectives turned to face her. Kouga narrowed his eyes and examined her in a calculated manner. A lecherous grin spread across Cain's lips. "He most likely used a tool to rip through the muscles in the neck to make it appear like a 'vampire' attacked her."

Several of the other investigators stopped what they were doing, watching the interaction between her and the detectives. Kouga's eyes traveled down to the badge hanging around her neck and he groaned audibly. Even Cain's smile faded when he finally used his eyes.

"What's the FBI doing here? This isn't a federal case yet." Cain stood and positioned himself protectively in front of the body, as if to shield it from her sight. He searched the perimeter and scowled when he found Officer Riggs trying to push the reporters back. "Riggs, what the hell are you doing, slacking off on the fucking job?"

Poor Riggs. Today was simply not his day. Perhaps she would send him a gift basket as an apology.

"The Chief says she's good to go," he snapped back, a deep red blush of anger spreading down his neck.

That didn't seem to make the detectives any happier. Not that she blamed them. She smiled sweetly and tried to console them. "Don't worry, I'm mostly here to observe. The Bureau wants to keep an eye on things here, see how the investigation proceeds."

"More like watch us like hawks and then swoop down to take the case when you see something you don't like," Cain grumbled under his breath. He turned and joined the other investigators on the other side of the scene and began complaining, not so quietly, about interlopers.

"I appreciate your theory. Sounds like a pretty logical one to me." Kouga stood and shoved his hands in his pockets, glaring down at her. Tilting her head inquisitively to the side, she continued to smile, waiting for him to finish his thoughts. When he didn't, she decided to help him along.

"You have something else you'd like to say, detective?"

He chewed the corner of his lip in serious contemplation and then sighed. "Look, I get it. You're just doing your job, but we've got one to do as well. I won't force you to leave, Rodriguez would have my hide, but stay out of our way."

Her eyes searched the crowd as he gave her his warning. They were full of curiosity, excitement, sadness - none of them terrified. Officers were mingling with the people, asking questions, but none of the people there would be able to help. They just wanted to see what was happening. Her eyes flickered to an older woman hobbling down the sidewalk, uninterested in all the activity. No one seemed to notice her either, as if she simply didn't exist. Judging by her tattered, dirty clothes she was more than likely homeless.

"Are there any alleys near here?" She continued to watch the woman as she picked up something from the ground and pocketed it in her shabby coat.

"There are alleys everywhere," Kouga replied begrudgingly. "Why? We already know the killer offed her somewhere else and dumped her here."

Narrow alleys, too small for people, cut in between buildings, but every block or so, they were wide enough to allow for vehicles, dumpsters, and vagrants. Just across the street was one, and a slight shifting in the pale shadows hinted at a potential new source of information.

Kouga yelled after her as she slipped under the tape and moved towards the alley. Trash littered the damp, cracked pavement, and the strong unpleasant odor of human waste flooded her nostrils. She crinkled her nose, pinching it in hopes of blocking out some of the smell. It didn't help. It only got worse as she stepped into the alley. She tried to focus on her search. When she spotted a deteriorating cardboard box pushed behind a rusted dumpster, a smile graced her lips. Listening intently, she picked up the quiet sounds of a rapid heartbeat.

Careful not to startle her target, Orihime walked on the toes of her shoes. When she reached the box, she tapped the corner of it with the tip of her boot. The box shifted and a haggard looking man scrambled out. Covered in grime and who knew what else, his shaggy gray beard riddled with saliva and bits of old hot dog, he stared at her with wild eyes. Seeing her badge, he fell back against the wall and slid to the ground, greasy strands of hair falling in front of his eyes like a grey screen. If she hadn't looked so fit, he probably would have tried to make a run for it.

"I didn' see nothin'," he declared in a shaky voice. His bloodshot eyes darted from one end of the alley to the other, searching desperately for a way out. "I didn' see nothin', I swear."

"Really?" She crouched in front of him, resting her arms on her knees and smiling gently as if she was addressing a child. "So you didn't see someone dumping a body just outside your doorstep last night?"

He hesitated. His heart slammed in his chest to the point that the rhythm sounded almost irregular. The fear that gripped him wasn't from her as an authority figure, but from something else entirely. If she wasn't careful her lead would die from a heart attack.

"Look," she said in a soft tone, "I won't tell anyone what you saw. It can be a secret between the two of us. I won't even tell those mean looking cops over there."

Finding some courage, he narrowed his eyes and pointed to her with his chin. "You're a cop."

She hummed a tone of amusement. "Hm. . . not quite."

His eyes grazed over her, not in a lecherous way, but in a way frightened pray evaluate potential threats. She appeared harmless enough, but this man seemed to know better. He knew not to trust appearances. Whether it was fear of her or not, she was pleased when he decided to talk.

"Y-You swear not to tell?"

Raising her hand in the air, her features grew more somber. "On my life."

But then he was silent again. Whatever he had seen - whoever he had seen - had him too scare to risk speaking to anyone carelessly. His testimony wasn't entirely necessary. She knew what she was dealing with, she just didn't know what he looked like. That asshole was hunting illegally in her city, killing her people, and it was pissing her off she had yet to catch the son of a bitch. And the vagabond was right to be afraid. The "New York Dracula" didn't just kill drunk women staggering home by themselves. He killed witnesses too. They hadn't found the bodies because, unlike the women who were in the news, he didn't want them to be found. There was no evidence to prove her theory, but she knew there were more bodies.

As she stood, the man snapped back to reality and waved her closer, desperate to keep her from leaving. Sucking in a breath so as not to inhale his potent stench, she leaned forward.

"It was him. The New York Dracula." His voice quivered with terror, and he pointed a shaky finger towards the crime scene. The detectives were still busy talking to one another as more reporters joined in the media frenzy. Kouga looked in her direction every now and then, but she was confident he couldn't see her or her witness behind the bins and other trash that decorated the alley. "He killed her over there."

"Did you get a good look at him?"

"Pretty, like a celebrity or model. Asian, with strange eyes that almost glowed."

She smiled happily. Finally, they could put a face on this bastard. It would go a long way towards capturing him and putting an end to his killing spree.

"When she looked into his eyes she went all still. Teeth - his teeth ripped into her like she wasn't nothin' but a piece of steak." He pushed himself deeper into the wall, trying to fade from view, his eyes wide with fear. Damn, she was losing him. She needed him coherent if he was going to describe the vampire to an artist.

"Come with me. Give my people your description and we'll keep you safe until he's caught."

The prospect of being safe and secure should have put him at ease, but instead, it shook him up. Four walls, surrounded by police-types, talking to him. All right, she could understand his hesitation.

"Or, you drop by, give us the description, and then you can be on your merry way."

This offer sat better with him, the panic in his eyes diminishing slightly. Why he thought he would be safer out in the city rather than with her people, she had no idea, but she wanted that description, and she would do what was needed to convince the man to give it to her.

Pulling out her phone, Orihime dialed a number. It rang once. A man picked up on the other end.

" _Tristan."_

"Tristan, meet me in the alley just across the street from the latest victim. I have a witness who is willing to give us a description of this asshole. I want him taken to the FCA immediately. Come in through the north side so you're not spotted by the cops and reporters."

" _Copy that. ETA five minutes."_

Orihime put her phone away and gave the man another smile. Her cheeks were beginning to hurt. "Stay here. A woman named Jackie Tristan is coming to fetch you. She'll take you to our facility where you can tell a sketch artist everything you remember about the New York Dracula. A car will then take you wherever you want."

Digging through her pocket, she pulled out a fifty dollar bill. The man's eyes widened. "This is one partial payment for your cooperation. You'll get more after you've told my people everything. Deal?"

The man seemed willing enough to help her without any additional incentive, but it didn't sit right with her. He wasn't willing to stay under their protection, the least she could do was give him some money so he could enjoy himself a little bit. There was no guarantee he wouldn't spend it on drugs or booze, but once it was in his hands it was his. Who was she to tell him how to spend it?

His eyes were locked onto the bill, like a brilliant and rare jewel, and then he was snatching it out of her hand, afraid she would change her mind. Prodding him for confirmation of their agreement, he nodded, telling her he would wait for her teammate. Satisfied she wouldn't lose her witness, Orihime stood and headed back to the crime scene.

A white van with "Coroner" scrolled across the side in large letters was waiting at the curb. The corpse, now in a black body bag, was being hoisted onto a gurney. The reporters were packing up their gear, and the crowd was dispersing. The detectives were still talking, comparing notes and theories.

"Find anything down there besides rats?" Cain asked with a sneer as she approached.

"Not a thing," she replied with a casual shrug.

Her carefree response had both detectives sharing a look of confusion.

"Then why are you smirking?"

"No reason. Looks like you have everything under control. I wish you luck in your investigation." Turning, she started walking down the sidewalk towards her car when Kouga called out to her.

"Hold up."

Playing coy might not have been the best decision. Cain was still green and would have taken her calm defeat as a victory against the fed. Kouga, on the other hand, was a seasoned detective. As much as he disliked feds, he wouldn't let hatred blind his instincts. She would have to tread carefully if she didn't want him digging any further. She stopped and glanced over her shoulder.

"Yes?"

"If I find out you're withholding information that could help us-"

Orihime turned and faced the detective, her playful smile gone and her eyes narrowed. Admittedly, he was right on the nose about what she was up to, but publically she couldn't let the slight go. He was accusing a federal agent of tampering, lying, and keeping important information from him. What agent would allow that slide?

"Detective Kouga, I understand your distrust and dislike of the FBI, however, I find it beyond insulting that you think we would inject ourselves into your investigation simply to interfere."

Kouga took a step back as if she had physically attacked him. Cain and several of the other remaining officers looked at one another nervously. A straggling reporter tapped his cameraman's shoulder to get his attention and began whispering hurriedly, pointing in their direction.

"I've already explained that the purpose behind my presence is simply to observe and be available should you request our assistance. We want this killer captured as quickly as possible, same as you. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have other cases that need my attention."

If Kouga thought to argue, he managed to restrain himself. His coworkers would probably keep the incident quiet, but the reporter? He hadn't caught anything on camera, but just his witness account of a dispute between the FBI and police over a serial killer would be a huge ratings boost. At this point, she was doing him a favor by turning and walking away.

When he thought she was out of earshot, he cursed up a vile storm with Cain trying to calm him. She almost felt guilty. He was a good detective with excellent instincts. He had been right to question her, to doubt her, but she couldn't afford the police to get any closer to their target than they already had. Enough humans had lost their lives because of this asshole.

Passing by the alley, Orihime saw that the man was gone. A message on her phone confirmed Tristan had him in custody and was taking him back to the Agency. She dialed a number and held the phone up to her ear.

" _Operator."_

"Inoue, Orihime. PIC 35 96 44."

" _Transferring."_

As the phone rang, Orihime climbed into her black sedan and closed the door. She started the engine and pulled out of her parking spot, headed back to the Agency.

" _Ginjou,"_ a gruff voice answered. Orihime sandwiched the phone between her ear and shoulder.

"It's Inoue. I found a witness to the latest killing. Tristan already picked him up and is bringing him in to give a description to Kelly."

" _Tristan called it in. Is there a reason you're telling me something I already know?"_

She quirked an eyebrow at his sharp retort. He was clearly in a mood. "I didn't know if Tristan called in or not. Besides, I wanted to let you know that our witness needs a bit of special treatment."

" _Why?"_

"He's a bit skittish. I promised him we wouldn't keep him after we got what we wanted."

" _Fine. Whatever. Anything else?"_

"We might want to keep an eye out on a Detective John Kouga. He'd didn't like that a fed was nosing around his crime scene."

" _You went with the FBI cover huh?"_

"It was the best way to get quick access and would explain my connection with Rodriguez without drawing too much attention."

" _Makes sense. I'll have Hans make sure all your information is in order. When you get back, come to my office. I need to talk to you about something."_

"What about-" the dial tone played in her ear and she scowled, tossing her phone into the passenger seat with annoyance.

Director Damon Kugo Ginjou was known for his curt and indomitable personality. Everything was consumed, considered, and determined in a slow and thorough stride. He didn't ruffle easily. The surprise party they'd thrown for him had been a major disappointment. He'd looked anything but surprised. Which is why Orihime found it disconcerting when she heard a hint of agitation in his voice.

She drove into the parking garage of the Federal Council Agency - also known as the FCA - and headed up to the fifth floor. As soon as she was through the elevator doors she was greeted by the receptionist with a chipper smile.

"Good afternoon, Agent Inoue. I have a message from Agent Tristan for you." She stretched across her desk and handed Orihime a piece of paper. Kelly, their go-to sketch artist, had been called and was due to arrive in another fifteen minutes. Soon, they would have an image of their killer and they could finally begin a proper hunt. She thanked the receptionist and stepped through the double glass doors that led to the main offices of the Hunting Department.

The mundane appearance of the New York City division offices were in stark contrast to the work they did. Cubicles lined the main portion of the floor where agents worked on computers, filing paperwork to keep the main branch up to date on their activities. Stairs running along the right side of the office led up to the second floor where Ginjou's office was located. The wall of glass gave her the perfect view of him pacing back and forth with solid, frustrated strides. Phone held to his ear, he gestured wildly as he spoke.

"Call from the boss man." Agent Riruka Dokugamine stepped next to her, long pale fingers twirling locks of pink tied up into pigtails. "They've been on the phone for nearly 20 minutes."

"It must be some phone call," Orihime remarked, watching in morbid fascination. She had never seen Ginjou lose his composure or raise his voice. Now she was seeing both. Then he shoved some papers across his desk, sheets of white fluttering the floor. Riruka sniggered and dropped into one of the chairs.

"He's been in a snit all day. It's actually pretty amusing to watch."

"For now."

"Thankfully I won't have to deal with him right after. Someone else will." The way she was sneering at Orihime hinted at her deeper meaning.

"Thanks," Orihime replied in an unamused tone. Spending her time with the director when he was in a rare mood was not how she imagined her day going. A few floors below, her witness was going to be giving his testimony and she wanted to be there to hear it.

Ginjou slammed his phone down on its base and she determined it was time for her to head up to his office. The sooner she got this meeting over with, the better.

"Good luck!" Riruka sang, playfully spinning in the chair.

Giving her a half-hearted wave, Orihime climbed the stairs. At the top, she could see the carnage Ginjou had wrought. He had never been a particularly organized man, but his office looked like a tornado had blown through it, circled back, and then torn through it again for good measure. Pictures, what few there were, either lay broken on the floor or hung catawampus on the wall. Papers were scattered about sitting on the floor, desk, chairs, and even on the top of the bookshelves. Only his computer remained untouched, and that was probably because he didn't want to pay for a new one.

Ginjou dropped into his chair, lighting a cigarette and inhaled deeply. It had been nearly ten years since she'd seen him light up.

"That bad?"

Exhaling a cloud of smoke, he looked up at her like a pouting child. "Close the door and take a seat."

She stepped inside his office and did as instructed. Collecting a few of the papers from one of the chairs, she placed them on his desk to be lost with the others and took a seat.

"I'm assuming this," she motioned to the office, "has something to do with what you wanted to discuss."

"You would be correct." Ginjou took another long drag of the cigarette and blew the smoke away from her. It did little to keep the harsh smell from burning her nose, but she wasn't about to complain. Anything to calm him down. Smoking wasn't permitted in the building and the alarm should have sounded - if it hadn't been hanging by its wires from the ceiling, batteries removed. "I've had to play phone tag with three different Councils today."

Orihime stared. Communication between the Councils wasn't uncommon, but for the FCA, all foreign interactions ran through the main branch in DC. There was no precedence for them to be speaking directly with an individual division, let alone three of them. Whatever the reason, it couldn't be good. She began calculating various scenarios for such an event, and all three of them resulted in a huge loss of life.

"Three?" She confirmed, trying to reel in her paranoia and get more information.

"Yeah. Ours, England's, and Japan's." He leaned back in his chair and smashed the butt of his cigarette into an ashtray. "Apparently it's some kind of joint effort no one bothered to talk to me about until today. They've got some people flying in and expect our full cooperation. I don't know what those foreign dicks did to get the Chancellor to bend so easily, but he's demanding we do everything to help them out.

"Makes no goddamn sense," he reached for another cigarette, lite it, and took a long draw. "From what I can tell, it's nothing life threatening, no indication of a massive attack, but the Chancellor is acting like there's nothing more important in the world. You'd think the President himself was making an appearance."

He jammed the cigarette into the ashtray. "They want to utilize _my_ resources, _my_ people, _my_ budgets, and keep _me_ in the dark. It pisses me off."

There was the real heart of the matter. Ginjou despised being left out of the loop. He had grown used to getting what he wanted, when he wanted it, no ifs, ands, or buts about it. Now, he was surrounded by three different factions and being told what to do with little to go on and no room to wiggle. Orihime tried to hide the smirk that was curling around the corners of her lips. He was having a temper tantrum.

"So what did they tell you?" She tried to pull back her amusement and move on. The more he focused on the details he did have, the more likely he was to calm down and fall back into his usual stoic self.

"Two agents from the British Council and two from the Japanese Council will be landing at JFK within the hour. We are expected to provide them with any support they should need while they complete their mission, and keep our noses out of it." He growled with his last words and scowled at his tempered cigarette, regretting putting it out. He reached for the box and growled when he found it empty.

"And you want me to be their babysitter," she concluded. It was her turn to be annoyed. How was she supposed to do her job when she was busy following these people around? In another thirty minutes, she could have the identification of the vampire who had been hunting in their city. If they didn't jump on this opportunity he could kill again. She didn't want any more blood spilt. "Why not have Riruka deal with them?"

Ginjou seemed to read her mind and gave her a sympathetic smirk, which looked more like a grimace. "I know you hate this. Believe me, you're not alone, but I need my best traveling with them."

Riruka would have been furious if she'd heard him say that. She was a good agent - a good hunter. Her tactics were a little unorthodox, but she got the job done.

"I don't need a hunter with them," Ginjou continued, picking up on Orihime's unease. "I need a diplomat. One of them is a councilor. The last thing I need is Riruka starting an international dispute because she doesn't like the color of their flags or some shit."

Given Riruka's affinity for finding just the right buttons to mash that was a very high possibility. With the Chancellor breathing down their necks, they didn't need Riruka insulting two Councils at once. Realizing she was defeated, Orihime decided she would take this job as seriously as her own. That meant she had to give up the New York Dracula case. Shuukurou would be a good choice. He was aloof but dedicated to his work. She could count on him to take care of everything.

"All right, give me the details you do have."

* * *

 **Author's Notes:** So? How do we like this version of Orihime so far? Can you tolerate her? I know she's a quite a bit OOC, but like I said before, I wanted my own version of her. I'd like to hear your overall thoughts.

I'm not sure if any of you noticed, but I updated my covers for For Blood and For Love. I really _really_ hated the old ones. I kind of like these ones better.

Thanks to those who favorited and followed both FB and FL. I love that FB is still being read (even without prompting from myself). Thanks to **lightdesired** , **NieveDrop** , and the **guests** who left reviews! I hope you all enjoyed this chapter as well. *Insert gratuitous begging for R&Rs*


	10. Chapter Nine

**Author's Soundtrack:  
** Glory Box by Portishead

* * *

 **Chapter Nine**

* * *

It took nearly four days for Shinji, Genryuusai, and Amanda Sullivan of the American Council to argue over what they had learned from the Lady and determine how to proceed. Most of their time was spent bickering over territory rights and rehashing old arguments that Rukia felt had absolutely nothing to do with their current predicament. They disagreed. More than once she'd been tempted to hit the mute button while they quarreled. All three of them were on the other side of the world, participating in the Gathering. It would have been easy to turn off the volume, or even their video feed, and blame a bad connection.

After much effort and compromise, the chancellors finally agreed to Japan and England sending two representatives each, who would be escorted by a team of FCA agents to and from their meetings with the First. Anything they learned would be shared with the chancellors simultaneously. Concern for information leaking was high. Begrudgingly, Sullivan agreed to keep her agents in the dark. Understandably, she disliked the idea of her own council not being represented when speaking to the First, but admitted there was little time for her to vet someone she could trust completely.

The two teams, made up of Ashido, Hideki, Rukia, and Ichigo, would try to make contact with the First and request any information he might have on Aizen's new abilities. If the opportunity presented itself, they were also to solicit his assistance in dealing with Aizen. In the meantime, their chancellors would plead with the other councils to unite in dealing with Aizen. For too long he eluded capture, using gaps in their strained relationships to slip through the cracks and working to dismantle everything they worked for. It was time they closed ranks and dealt with him once and for all.

The flight from London to New York City was long, and gave Rukia a chance to catch up on her sleep. The seats on the private jet lay flat and felt like heaven to her tired body. As soon as they took off, she was out and didn't wake until they landed.

As the plane taxied along the runway, she sorted through her copy of the file the Lady had given them on Coyote Starrk. It was thicker now, stuffed with additional information they'd gathered on Starrk's alias, along with a few photos and anything else that might be related to him.

Coyote Starrk was a man who appeared to be in his early 40s, with tanned skin and dark chin-length hair. He was a healthy thin and well dressed. Initial searches claimed he was the last in a line of businessmen who inherited his grandfather's multi-billion dollar company. He lived a quiet life, staying out of the tabloids. Through his company, and probably other means, he had many ties to very powerful people throughout the world.

There was truth mixed in with the lies to help solidify his story and keep him from attracting too much attention from his own people and the humans alike. To humans he was another elusive rich man. To their own kind, he was a vampire who was very good at playing the game.

She studied one of the pictures taken as he was getting off a plane. Staring at those cold eyes, she wondered if he would feel any connection to her. Would those eyes show recognition or feel concern, or would they be just as empty as they were in the photo? And how important was it that he recognized her in some way? It shouldn't have mattered, but she found a small part of her wondered with hope.

The stairs were lowered and they stepped off the jet. A large black SUV was waiting for them. Beside it, a women in a dark pantsuit offered a friendly smile. Given the unusually warm fall day and high sun, Rukia felt a surge of respect for the woman. Even in her own sleeveless blouse and khaki pants she had to be warm, and yes she was smiling as if she hadn't a care in the world.

"Welcome to America," she greeted them in fluent Japanese. "I'm Agent Orihime Inoue. My team and I will be responsible for escorting you wherever you need to go."

"Thank you, Agent Inoue," Ashido replied similarly. "I'm Ashido Kano. This is Hideki Yamamoto, Ichigo Kurosaki, and Councilor Rukia Kuchiki. We all speak English, if that would make you more comfortable."

"Speak for yourself," Ichigo grumbled. Rukia tossed him a sympathetic smile. His English was surprisingly good and he never had any issues when conversing with others. Living in London had given him an advantage, but he missed speaking his own language. It helped that they spoke Japanese whenever they were alone, but his eyes still lit up when he heard someone else speaking it - even Ashido.

Agent Inoue was kind enough to suppress her amusement and continued in English. "We'll be taking you to where you'll be staying first. Along the way, I can brief you on what we have so far."

She opened the car door and waited for them all to climb inside. The back was surprisingly spacious, the seats a soft and comfortable leather. Rukia could have fit anywhere with her smaller stature, but this vehicle gave even Ashido and Ichigo enough room to stretch out their legs.

Agent Inoue sat in the front and instructed the driver to take them to their destination. She turned and continued speaking.

"We've taken the liberty of reserving a few rooms for you in a hotel near the Agency. It will give you easier access to our facilities should you need to use them."

"You don't have guest rooms on site?" Rukia wondered, mostly out of polite curiosity.

"No. The Agency is mostly offices and conference rooms. We have a couple of rooms to accommodate overnight stays, but none of the councilors for the New York division live there. They have their own homes scattered about the city, and most of our foreign dignitaries preferring staying at some of the more lavish hotels."

"I'm sure we'll be fine with whatever you have set up," Ashido replied. Rukia could read the amusement in his eyes and figured he was thinking of all the times they'd stayed in makeshift tents, cold and covered in muck. She _could_ deal with a similar situation if necessary, but that didn't mean she wanted to anytime soon.

"We tried reaching out to the Mr. Starrk you requested to meet with," Agent Inoue continued, "but all our efforts to set up the meeting were rebuffed by his assistant. According to her, he is unavailable for a private meeting."

"That's not all that surprising," Rukia told her. "We'll have to find another way to see if we can get in touch with him."

"Well, you may be in a bit of luck." The agent smiled brilliantly.

She dug around in her bag and pulled out a tall piece of cardstock, handing it to Rukia. The design was simple, ivory in color with delicate scrolling silver text that etched out an invitation to a gala celebrating local artists and raising funds for a charity researching children's cancer.

"Although Mr. Starrk is a man who keeps to himself, a few times a year he comes out of hiding to attend charity events. This one," she tapped the invitation, "is sponsored by his company every year. And every year, he attends. It's very exclusive with limited invitations that are hand delivered to guests. I know rich people can be a little eccentric, but that seems a bit much even for their types."

"Could be he wants to make sure no one uninvited attends," Ichigo remarked.

"He does seem to be the paranoid sort."

"And we'll foster that paranoia if we show up without invitations," Ashido pointed out. "So unless you've got more of those hiding in your back pocket. . ."

That grin of hers turned mischievous, like a pretty red Cheshire Cat.

"It took a bit of negotiating, and my director will be grumbling about having to entertain a wealthy widower and her single daughter for several evenings, but we managed to procure a few more invitations." The amount of pity the agent had for her superior could fit into a thimble. Rukia could relate. "It won't guarantee you a meeting with him, but it'll get you into the building. You'll have to figure out the rest on your own."

Rukia noted the time on the invitation. "It looks like we have four hours before it starts."

"More like five. No one ever shows up to those things on time. It'll give us enough time for you to get refreshed and for us to find you some clothes."

Ichigo made a face that reminded her of a baby eating its vegetables. "Is that really necessary?"

"A tuxedo won't kill you," Rukia replied with an eye roll.

"The event is black tie. Even with an invite, if you aren't dressed appropriately, they won't let you in."

The SUV pulled up to a tall brown sandstone building nearly 20 stories high. It was simple but elegant, with a metal awning to protect guests from the elements. A man stood out front, hurrying up to the car and opening the doors for Agent Inoue and Rukia. As she stepped onto the sidewalk, she noticed a deep blue flag with gold lettering fluttering in the midday breeze.

"The Ritz-Carlton?" Rukia couldn't hide her shock.

Agent Inoue was scanning through her phone and looked up at Rukia with a smile. "Of course. I told you our guests prefer staying at the hotels in the city. We want to make sure your stay is comfortable. Since you didn't have a particular place picked out, we figured this would work."

"She means to say she wants to make sure our little councilor only has good things to say in her report." Rukia wanted to smack the smug smile off Ashido's face but refrained.

"That certainly wouldn't hurt."

The thought of what it would cost to put up four guests is such a hotel had her reeling. Perhaps it was because she'd grown used to Shinji's tight belt and dealing with whatever fit within the budget. When she was with her brother she wouldn't have batted an eye and even expected such accommodations. It was amazing the difference a year could make.

Ichigo came around the back of the car and helped the bellhop place their bags on the luggage cart.

"If it makes you feel any better, we get a discounted rate," the agent offered, leading them towards the front doors.

Inside, the lobby was spacious, decorated with luxurious furniture and dark walls. Lamps scattered throughout the room provided soft lighting that instantly made her feel comfortable and relaxed. Agent Inoue walked up to the front desk and began the process of getting them checked in, while Ichigo and Ashido eyed their surroundings with intense suspicion. It wasn't particularly crowded. A few guests were sitting in some of the chairs, discussing business or making phone calls.

When they were checked in, the agent escorted them to their rooms. They didn't have the penthouse, but the individual suites were more than impressive. The FCA truly spared no expense for their guests.

Rukia's suite had a beautiful view of Central Park. Lit by the sun as it began its slow descent behind the sparkling skyline, the colorful leaves danced in the breeze, setting the park on fire with golds and reds of fall. The living room was spacious with comfortable furniture and a small workstation. The bedroom was large with a king bed topped with an unnecessary amount of pillows. But it was the bathroom that nearly had her moaning. Stripping her clothes along the way, Rukia made her way to the bathroom.

While she waited for the hot water to fill the deep-set bathtub, she stepped into the shower to rinse off the grime from nearly nine hours of travel. When the tub was full, she turned off the shower and slowly lowered herself into the nearly boiling water. The heat scorched her skin, reaching the stiff muscles that lay beneath and easing the tension that had worked itself into every part of her body. If nothing else went right with this meeting she at least had this bathtub.

If only it was that easy.

Bliss tempered by reality, Rukia sank deeper into the water. After coming this far, would she truly be satisfied if Starrk turned her away? Would she accept his rejection? Everything to this point had been effortless, earned only with patience and luck. Ashido had fallen into her lap with a lead on the one connection to the First. The Lady had given them information and a direction with one conversation. One party that was scheduled for the day they arrived was the one event Starrk attended every year. Life was not kind. Their string of luck was bound to run out at some point. Why not at the very end of the road?

Slipping beneath the surface of the water, she pushed aside thoughts of good and bad luck and tried to be pragmatic. The chances of this whole setup being a con were unlikely. Too many people with good sense believed the intel they had. Shinji was unreliable at times, but he wasn't an idiot. Genryuusai had a personal connection to the Lady. If there was any indication of falsehood, Genryuusai and Shinji would have destroyed those pulling the con. No matter what the Lady thought, Genryuusai was not a gentle old man who let others trample him. There was a reason he was still alive. A raging fire would consume the world if he let it out.

She lifted her head out of the water and breathed in the cool air of the room. Realistically, her chances of speaking with the First were 50/50. She knew what would happen if she didn't meet him, but what about if she did? What would she say? Would he be able to tell her about the strange power? About his life? About her family? About death?

The Lady's words of warning floated back into her mind. She'd never thought much about the future. She was a hunter. Death was always a possibility and was a constant companion. So she worried only about the present. That present was consumed by finding Aizen. But now there was a chance even Death himself had abandoned her, and there was nothing waiting for her except lonely darkness. One day she would lose everyone she loved and cared for. One day there would be no one left but her, Starrk, and Aizen.

The water turned ice cold and she groaned. She climbed out of the tub, the water now crusted with a thin layer of ice, and slipped into the warm plush robe hanging on the back of the door. This was why she couldn't have nice things. If she met with Starrk and managed to get him alone, the first thing she was going to ask him about was how to control her powers.

Opening the door, Rukia froze and stared up into stormy gray eyes.

"Ashido," she breathed. Quickly, she recovered from her surprise and shifted to mild irritation. "What are you doing in my room?"

She was quick to close the door behind her as she walked into the bedroom. The steam from the room hopefully melted any remnants of her abilities, but she wasn't going to risk it. If he saw anything, he didn't mention it. Instead, he followed her out of the bedroom as she went to fetch her bag. During her bath, it had been delivered and set on the floor next to the sofa. Grabbing it, she turned and nearly ran into Ashido.

"I want to talk."

She wasn't sure how to handle this situation, how to handle him. Since their reunion in London, he'd kept his distance and maintained a professional discourse. There were no indications of what happened between them - on the surface. But every now and then she saw a familiar spark, a heat to his eyes that tried to draw her in. In London, she'd managed to keep a safe distance between them. Work kept her busy, and Ichigo didn't leave her alone often. Now the obstacles had been removed and she saw what he wanted. It wasn't to talk.

She stepped around him and back into the bedroom. "Can it wait? I'd like to get dressed and take care of a few things for work."

"I'd rather deal with this now."

Placing her bag on the dresser, she purposefully turned her back on him and began mindlessly searching through her bag. If she kept her demeanor professional and didn't leave him any openings, they might make it through this little meeting without incident.

When she glanced in the mirror she saw him standing directly behind her, his eyes boring into hers. Heat radiated off him like the sun, and she too close not to get burned. His arms appeared on either side of her waist and pressed against the dresser, effectively trapping her.

Turning, she prepared herself for the fierce pressure of his gaze. She would let him say what he wanted, and that would be it. Any more than that she risked falling into old habits.

"We should have spoken sooner. I wanted to, but I couldn't figure out how to approach you."

"And you figured sneaking into my room while I was bathing was the best time?"

He had the decency to look embarrassed. "I didn't realize you were in the bath, though I won't pretend that isn't a side benefit."

When his lips curled into a teasing smile and her heart thrummed in response she knew she was in trouble. She knew that look, knew what followed. She tried to build the defenses, but her body refused.

"I missed you."

The words were barely a whisper, a gentle caress, followed by the touch of his fingers as they brushed her cheek, the tips branching into her hair. A vague sense of nostalgia tugged at her and the small terrors that had been hounding her for the past few hours scattered. Unthinking, she leaned into his hand, craving the sensations her body recalled with surprising clarity and the desire to be free of her worries.

The face of another jolted her back to the present with a shock of ochre and she hastily pulled his hand away. It wasn't right. No matter how comfortable it made her, how easy it was, she'd made a decision a long time ago and would stick by it.

Looking up into his eyes, clouded with confusion, lust, and hurt, she hardened her resolve. "Is that all you wanted to say?"

"Say? Yes. Do?" He leaned forward. She leaned back. He paused.

"Ashido, this would be a mistake."

He frowned, his eyes still locked on her lips. "Why?"

"Things were good between us, but leaving was the best decision - for both of us."

He scowled. "You didn't want to go. I know you didn't, and I never wanted you to leave."

She knew he didn't want her to, which was one of the reasons she left the way she did. He'd loved her, would have done anything for her and followed her anywhere. She should have loved him for it, but the feeling was never there. Where she should have felt happiness and bliss there was only emptiness. The love he had for her would never fill the chasm that splintered her heart. She had missed him and hated to leave him, but it had been too easy to walk away, to move her attentions to other matters.

"Even if I stayed, things between us wouldn't have lasted. It was better for me to leave and let you move on with your life."

There was anger burning in those eyes, she could see it brewing like a hurricane, but he didn't raise his voice, didn't strike out. He took that torrent and lined his words with it, leaning closer so his lips hovered tantalizingly above her own. "I didn't want to move on from you."

His hand cupped the back of her head and pulled her in for a searing kiss, his lips claiming hers with passion built up over the years - and she crumbled under the weight of it. It was too easy to remember how good he made her feel, to slip back into what they used to be. And she ached for a distraction, to feel good for one moment in this year of hell. Her arms slipped around his neck and pulled him closer, desperate to close the space between them.

Passion had never been their problem. Every night was one of pure ecstasy. They fit together like two puzzle pieces, driving one another to the brink and falling into oblivion. In a time when she saw only darkness, he helped bring her back into the light.

Picking her up, Ashido moved her away from the dresser and pressed her back to the wall. His hands found their way into the folds of the robe, skimming and caressing familiar curves and divots, sending uncontrollable shivers coursing through her. And still his mouth dominated hers. In seconds he had her breathless, her body humming and reacting to him like the old lover he was. Each touch pulled a pleasant moan from her lips, each stroke of his tongue a whimper for more.

But she'd remembered the truth. He had been an escape, nothing more. The wounds she thought he had been healing were still there. They weren't so deep, no longer leaving her a broken heap of misery on the floor. He had helped her to move forward and wanted to keep the momentum, but she couldn't give him what he wanted in the end. She still couldn't give that to him, and it wasn't fair.

When his hands slipped between her legs reality slammed into her like a sledgehammer. With as much force as she could muster, she pushed him away from her. He stumbled back, nearly falling on the bed. She ignored the ache his absence left behind and tried to catch her breath. Quickly, she adjusted her robes and fixed him with a pointed stare that commanded he not move an inch.

"You may not have wanted to move on from me, but I was moving on from you. I. . ." She clenched her jaw and fought back the tidal wave of emotions that threatened to break her. She didn't want to hurt him. She wanted to keep loving him in her own way, but he needed to know the truth and understand she couldn't give him what he wanted. "I wanted to love you. I wanted to be with you. But I realized I was never going to be able to return your feelings, not the way you wanted me to. It wasn't fair or right to keep deceiving you once I knew the truth."

His eyes flashed with pain at her words and he started to argue, but she held up a hand and silenced.

"What you did for me, I can never thank you enough. You gave me a reason and purpose to continue living when I wasn't sure I wanted to, but you couldn't fix everything for me. There are pieces of me that are still broken, and I don't know if I'll ever be able to fix them. I still feel that hole in my heart Kaien left."

"What about the kid?" He was calm when he asked, but she could see the venom behind those eyes, feel it bite into her with sharp fangs. But the question was so unexpected she stared at him for a moment, trying to process what he was asking.

"Kid? What kid?"

"Kurosaki," he sneered.

She felt her feathers ruffle in defense. "He's got nothing to do with this."

"I've seen the way he watches you, how his eyes follow you wherever you go. And did you think I wouldn't notice? The hair and eyes are different, but the similarities are uncanny. I bet he fills that hole of yours quite nicely."

The insinuation had the color draining from her face in equal part humiliation and indignity. There was a lot she was willing to take. She'd been called and accused of many things throughout her life, whispered about, torn down by people who barely knew her. How she'd handled leaving Ashido earned him the right to a few good lumps, but what he was implying was beyond what she would tolerate. In one sentence he demeaned her love for Kaien and her relationship with Ichigo.

"Get out. Now."

A look of dim shock passed over his features, realization of the weight of his words dawning on him. "Rukia, I-"

" _Now_."

There was no taking the words back, no reasoning their meaning away. It was best if he leave now before more damage could be done. Clamping his mouth shut, he walked out of her room and left her alone in the suffocating silence. When she heard the door close, her knees and temper gave way and she collapsed on the bed.

How could things have gotten so horribly skewed? She'd never planned on mending their relationship, knew she didn't deserve it, but for him to have said such a thing. . .

Ashido was the one who picked up her shattered pieces and taught her how to gather herself up and live again. He was the one who taught her to harness the pain and suffering consuming her and put it to good use. If anyone knew what she endured after the loss of Kaien, it was him, and that was why his words were like a gaping wound to her heart.

Jealousy was a snarling fiend that twisted good people to say and do cruel things, and Ashido was not immune. In time she might forgive him, but for now all she wanted to do was sleep and pretend none of this happened. Ashido hadn't come into her room. They hadn't nearly fallen into bed together. He hadn't disparaged her relationships with Kaien and Ichigo. He was still the level-headed, even-keeled Ashido she'd grown fond of.

A knock on the door summoned her from the bedroom. Begrudgingly she clambered off the bed and shuffled to the door. Opening it, she half expected to see Aizen standing there. It would be a nice way to top off her day. Here's a dose of nostalgia followed by a ruined relationship, oh, and the man who destroyed your life.

Thankfully it was only a hotel employee. A large white bag was draped over one arm, and he held a smaller bag with unlabeled boxes in the other.

"Delivery for a Ms. Rukia Kuchiki."

She eyed the items suspiciously, then realized they were clothes for the gala. She thanked the employee and took the bags. Inside the large one was her dress. Just laying there she could tell it was exquisite. Putting it on, she had to admit the Agent's taste in fashion was impeccable. The gown was black with a subtle sparkle that glistened in the light like starlight on a cloudless night. The heart-shaped curve of the neckline sat uncomfortably low and would have been considered scandalous except for the intricate black lace that branched out from the edging into a sophisticated pattern, touching just below her collarbone. The lace continued across her shoulders, and danced down her arm just past her elbows, trailing off like brush strokes.

Studying herself in the mirror, Rukia felt like a piece of art. A piece of art that couldn't run, even in the simple black heels from the box.

With the elaborate design of the lace, Rukia felt no need to wear any of the accessories the agent had gotten for her. There was only one piece she was interested in - a jeweled comb that curled and twisted like vines. She pulled her hair up and away from her face into a loose french twist and pinned the comb into the crease. She would have to forgo any makeup, having packed none of her supplies. Even without it, she felt she looked fairly good. She would need that confidence to face Ashido again.

Glancing at the clock, she realized they had less than an hour before they needed to be at the gala and still be considered fashionably late. As she reached for the door to head down to the lobby there was a knock.

"I'm sorry, I was just finishing up-" Rukia stalled when she opened the door and saw Ichigo standing there. She'd never seen him dressed formally. Even during events at the Consulate, he'd only gone so far as to dress in black button downs and black slacks. He was there to guard, not mingle, he'd told her. Now, with no excuse to fall back on, he wore a tuxedo almost perfectly tailored for him. The smooth black material hugged his frame from his broad shoulders to his narrow hips. His hair was still a bit unruly, but somehow it worked with the outfit.

"I knew you'd look good in a tux," she said with a blithe smile.

"You look. . . not so bad yourself," Ichigo managed. She might have been insulted if not for his wide eyes hinting at surprise and something else. Ashido's words practically slapped her across the face and she felt her warm cheeks grow cold.

"So eloquent," she prodded, forcing a curve to her lips. It didn't matter what Ashido thought. Her relationship with Ichigo was more than just a need to fill a hole. They might have looked similar, but Ichigo and Kaien were different people. Where Kaien had been easygoing and playful, Ichigo was intense and sardonic. Kaien could take her remarks in stride and dismantle them with ease, Ichigo shot back with equal bite. She expected just as much now.

He scratched the back of his head, his cheeks a pale pink. "Sorry, I suppose 'stunning' is a better description."

Her heart stuttered.

She hadn't expected that. Kaien might have said something similar, but his delivery would have been smooth and smoldering, resulting in a quick dalliance before going about their day. This awkward confession should have been nothing except adorable in its stumblings but was enough to catch her breath. Why was that?

This was Ashido's fault, she determined stubbornly. He'd sauntered in, seduced her, and left her feeling heady, her body tingling. Now she was over thinking the smallest things. They needed to focus on the mission, and like in London and Japan, she and Ichigo would work together to meet that goal.

* * *

 **Author's Notes:** Thank you guys so much for the responses to the last chapter. I was very concerned people would completely skip over that chapter because it was focused on Orihime. I'm so happy you guys gave her a chance and like what I've done with her so far. I hope I continue to make you guys happy on that front.

That being said. . . did you guys enjoy the little heated moment between Rukia and Ashido? I've never really done romance / steamy scenes before. I hope I did it well. I know you guys would prefer it to have been Ichigo, but the two of them aren't quite there yet.

Thanks to all those who favorited and followed the story, and a special thanks to those of you who left reviews: **lightdesired, Harveyman, NieveDrop** (who I seem to be stalking in some weird way lol) **, yocel, Haru, and gin.** I'd like to give a super special thanks to **IchiRuki 4vr** , who read through all of For Blood and For Love, leaving a trail of lovely reviews for nearly every chapter!

If you guys are interested in the inspiration for Rukia's dress, here's a link (I think it should work). Normally I don't like relying on images, but the dress is fairly complex and I don't think I did it justice.

Thanks again for reading! I hope you enjoyed this chapter and will R&R!

Edit 2/25/17: FF doesn't allow for the posting of links in the chapters, so you can find the link for Rukai's dress in my profile.


	11. Chapter Ten

**Author's Soundtrack:  
** What Does This Mean by Ramin Djawadi

* * *

 **Chapter Ten**

* * *

The others were already gathered in the lobby. Agent Inoue stood in the center of a group of other FCA agents, giving orders and looking regal in her elegant black gown. It was considerably more conservative than Rukia's with nothing revealing or risque except for a long slit traveling the length of her leg, almost to her hip. A delicate pattern of beaded swirls added a floral-shaped dash of gold. The dress was meant to flatter her curvaceous figure and long legs without drawing too much attention, perfect for blending into the background. Although, Rukia wasn't so sure the agent could cloak her presence even if she tried. Her warm smile and alluring physique drew eyes no matter how she tried to conceal herself.

Her agents were professional, but even they were having difficulty keeping their eyes where they should be.

Hideki and Ashido stood off to the side, both dressed in tuxedos and speaking quietly with one another. When Ashido's eyes landed on her, feelings of resentment, disappointment, regret, and frustration fought for dominance. His words thrashed about her her mind, inciting the emotions further and leaving her battered. Then his eyes settled on Ichigo, his jaw tightening in clear distaste, and a flash of indignation coursed through her like an intense wildfire burning away all other thoughts and emotions.

Chin in the air, she approached the American Agent with the grace and pride Kuchiki's were renowned for, pointedly ignoring Ashido's gaze as he tracked her and Ichigo across the room.

"Are we ready to go?"

Agent Inoue smacked one of her agents, a young man gawking as his looked between the two of them. Snapping his mouth closed, he nodded to his superior and hurried off. Rukia might have been pleased to illicit such a reaction when she stood beside someone of Agent Inoue's caliber, if she weren't busy trying to look indifferent and professional.

Agent Inoue smiled. "Yes. Agent Howard is fetching the limo now."

"Is a limo really necessary?"

"For an exclusive gala event? Of course it is." The agent gave her a friendly wink. Rukia wasn't entirely convinced her reasons were purely for the good of the mission, but if the agent was willing to spend her funds on extravagance who was she to argue? "I'm glad I picked that dress. You look absolutely amazing in it. Your small size is perfect for this kind of stuff. I would never be able to fit into anything like that."

Out of habit, Rukia's eye twitched at the mention of her stature. The agent's casual air indicated she meant no offense, and considering the dress did, in fact, fit perfectly, she was willing to give her a pass.

When the limo arrived, they all clambered inside. Thankfully, Agent Inoue sat between Rukia and Ashido. At the moment she had no interest is sitting beside him. Admittedly, it was childish and passive aggressive, but it was for the best. They had a mission to complete. Keeping her distance was the best way to ensure they avoided any further altercations that could have a significant impact on its success.

The limo pulled up to a short building of modern design, with dips and curves that gave it's silver-white walls an intriguing shape. Security blocked both ends of the road, checking each vehicle before allowing it to pass. A red carpet stretched from the street to the glass entrance. A throng of paparazzi and reporters flanked either side, shouting guests names and taking pictures with bright flashes of light. A celebrity was walking ahead of them - someone Rukia vaguely recalled being on the cover of several magazines - taking her time to stop and pose several different ways. Rukia grew steadily annoyed and considered pushing past her to get through the doors. There were more important things to attend to than speculating at what designer the woman was wearing and if she could turn a little more to the right.

When they finally got inside, the atmosphere suffered a dramatic shift from the noisy chaos to an elegant and refined ambiance. The deep strings of a cello and gentle keys of a grand piano soothed her ragged nerves as they played _The Carnival of the Animals: XXII the Swan._ Colorful statues that twisted gracefully and large paintings filled the main floor of the gallery. The ceiling stretched four floors with a wall of glass. Outside, a large fountain covered the exterior courtyard, dropping off into the bay and giving an artist's thoughts on the juxtaposition of man-made versus natural. What those thoughts were, exactly, she didn't know or care. They wouldn't affect whether or not she would meet the First.

Still early in the night, there were only a few guests, most milling about the main floor, sipping champagne and discussing the pieces. In the center of the room was enough space for an older couple dance, smiling happily in their own little world.

No where did she see Coyote Starrk. Not on the main floor, and not on any of the balconies spanned the length of the room.

"There are a total of three floors that are open to guests this evening," Agent Inoue explained in a quiet voice, "and a fourth floor that is closed off to guests. He could be on any of them or somewhere else entirely. If you can't find him, you can wait him out. He'll have to make an appearance to rub elbows with the the donors."

"We could split up and see if we can find him ourselves before then," Ichigo considered.

"Mr. Kurosaki and I can remain on the main floor, while Agent Yamamoto and Agent Thompson explore the third floor. Councilor Kuchiki and Agent Kano can search the second. Once we're sure he's not there, we can consider other options."

Any good will Rukia felt towards Agent Inoue evaporated with this simple suggestion. It was as if she sensed the tension between herself and Ashido and was forcing them to deal with it. She didn't appreciate her meddling, especially as the agent slipped her arm around Ichigo's and dragged him deeper into the gallery and out of sight. Yet, much to her chagrin, she could see the logic behind the pairings. No one group would have an advantage over the other should they find Starrk first. The Americans weren't supposed to be involved, but that didn't mean Agent Inoue wasn't going to find a way to be included.

Rukia wasn't sure if the woman was brilliant or a pest.

Hideki and Agent Thompson made their way to the third floor. Daring to look over at her partner for the night, she caught him studying her. "Caught" was perhaps the wrong word. That implied he was sneaking glances rather than blatantly peering at her like he was.

He didn't say anything, simply waited, standing stiffly as if any sudden movement or sound would startle her. Turning with forced indifference, she made her way to the stairs. Lifting the hem of her dress, she began the slow torturous climb to the next level. Her heels were manageable, but she didn't want to risk stepping on the hem of her dress and toppling down the stairs. He followed along beside her like a tall shadow. They reached the landing and walked down the hall. Galleries lined one side and the balcony opened up on the other, looking down on the main floor and out the wall of glass. Below she could see the other guests wandering about. The elderly couple was still dancing.

Not many guests were exploring the upper floors just yet, making it easier to inspect the smaller rooms and see if Starrk was hiding in any of them. Together, the pair of them searched in terse silence. Unfortunately, the steady solitude and quiet seemed to encourage Ashido to speak up.

"Rukia."

She didn't stop, stepping into the third gallery and taking a look around.

"Rukia," he tried again.

Again, she ignored him and glanced around the corner of a temporary wall. It wasn't about giving him the cold shoulder, but more about giving herself time to consider how to deal with him. Did she give him an opportunity to say his piece or allow herself the privilege of reveling in her anger. But Ashido's patience was limited. Before she could step back into the hall and move on to the next gallery, he grabbed her arm and pulled her back into the gallery, using the temporary wall as a shield from onlookers.

His fingers wrapped around her arm firmly. She narrowed her eyes and lowered her gaze to his grip. It was tight, not enough to cause bruising, but that didn't matter.

"Let go."

Her voice was quiet, a hush barely audible in the stark stillness of the gallery, but the warning was clear. If he didn't remove his hand from her arm, she would do it for him.

He didn't, either because he was being pig-headed or courageous in his attempt to have her hear him out. She tugged her arm in an effort to break free of his grip, but he held fast.

"Ashido, I swear if you don't let me go-"

"Please, just listen."

She didn't know if it was the desperation in his voice or the vulnerability in his eyes that caused her to hesitate, dousing some of the ire that had been eating away at her, but she stopped struggling. His fingers loosened but remained on her arm.

"I'm sorry. I should have never spoken to you like that. It wasn't right and it wasn't fair to you or Kaien. And who you spend your time with is your business."

He paused, waiting for her to interrupt or say something. When she said nothing. He continued.

"The minute I saw Kurosaki I recognized the likeness to that portrait you used to keep. I thought I knew the gist of it - your relationship. How could you not be together when he looked like that, when he looks at you like that? But I thought that's all it was - all he was. He might look like him, but that didn't mean he could match him. That's why I went to your room. I wanted to confirm whether or not you had really moved on, or if he was some sort of placeholder and there was still a chance for. . ."

He tore his eyes away for a moment, and then met her gaze again. "I only meant to go there to talk. Then I saw you, smelled you coming out of that bath and I. . ." he hung his head in shame. "I'm man enough to admit I lost some of my control. And you responded the way you used to, so I thought there was a chance we could pick up where we left off."

Rukia's cheeks warmed, embarrassed by her own shameless behavior.

"When you rebuffed me I was so mad. I figured I knew the truth of it, and that you were lying to yourself, and to me, to spare my feelings." There was a fracture in the veil of regret, a tension that hinted at the animosity he felt, and it wasn't unwarranted. She had wronged him, in her room and all those years ago, but she couldn't allow him to aim his anger at her towards Ichigo.

"Ichigo and I are not in that kind of relationship."

His eyes snapped to hers, searched them to see if they were hiding anything - the truth in order to protect Ichigo. Whatever he found there, she didn't care. She would tell him the truth, that her intentions towards him were motivated by her desire to see him happy and with someone far more deserving of his loyalty and dedication than herself. She couldn't force him to believe it, but he would find no deceit in her words.

"How much do you know about the events regarding Sousuke Aizen?"

Ranked as one of the Japanese Council's most valued spies and hunters, Ashido was trusted with sensitive information, but there was plenty he wasn't privy to. The vague details he'd shared with the Lady seemed like disinterest at the time, but in reality might be from a lack of knowledge.

Shifting uncomfortably, he considered what to tell her. She was no longer a part of the Japanese Council, anything he told her could be considered an act of treason. But she had been at the center and knew more than the Genryuusai himself.

"I know exactly what I told the Lady."

If she explained the situation, revealed everything to him, he would see Rukia and Ichigo's relationship for what it truly was, would know it wasn't some trist meant to satiate her physical desires and loneliness.

So she started at the beginning, or what she saw as the beginning - the first attack on the Harvest Chamber. It was the lynchpin in Ichigo's life, the moment he was dragged into their world. From the moment they stood in front of the hospital he'd been trying to protect her, concerned about her when they were nothing but strangers. As a result, he'd lost everything.

When she recounted Ichigo's transformation, Ashido tensed with shock, his eyes large with wonder and astonishment. He knew what it meant, how difficult of a decision it was for her to make. Tenderly he pulled her him. There were no hidden motives, no selfish intentions, only the longing to comfort a friend who had suffered to make an impossible choice. The gesture meant more to her than she thought it might, warming her heart and filling her with a sense of acceptance she felt keenly.

She had missed this, having someone who could listen quietly and empathize with her and her struggles. It was what had drawn her to him in the first place. It was what made her stay. And it was unfair for her to continue to abuse that relationship when she could offer him nothing in return. So she thanked him and finished her story - their story.

By the end of it, she felt completely drained. There was nothing left for her to feel. She expected her visit to the States to be an emotional journey, but not in this way.

Ashido led her out to the balcony, keeping his hand on the small of her back. It was enough to give her comfort without pushing the newly established boundaries. She leaned on the rail. More couples were dancing to the Butterfly Waltz, their patterned movements and gentle swaying hypnotizing and soothing.

She didn't mean to look for them, but her eyes found Ichigo and Agent Inoue dancing. The woman was surprisingly balletic, capable of leading Ichigo through a proper waltz with little effort. His form was decent, considering his young age and lack of training - back strong, arms supportive, though a little loose, as he held his partner close. As they danced, they scanned the room, searching for their target. They worked well together.

There was a twinge of something she immediately brushed aside. She had no more energy left for another bout of emotions.

She waited for Ashido to say something, reflect on what she had told him, but they were interrupted before he could speak.

"Ms. Kuchiki. Mr. Kano."

A woman stood behind them. She wore a modest white dress that hugged her curves comfortably with elbow-length sleeves. Rukia would describe her as very sleek and stern except for the shocking aqua color of her hair. She was young, or appeared to be so, but her cinnamon eyes spoke of the years she had seen. While she looked professional, she seemed out of place for the gala.

"My name is Nelliel," she introduced herself in Japanese. There was a slight accent, almost Hispanic, but it was barely detectable. "I have a message from Mr. Starrk."

Rukia and Ashido straightened, giving her their full attention.

"I understand you have both come a long way in an attempt to meet with him, however, he will not be taking a private meeting tonight or in the future. I hope you both will enjoy the rest of your evening."

The brisk denial was like a slap to the face, and Rukia felt her heart plummet with the weight of disappointment. She hadn't realized how high her hope had been their mission would be successful. The Lady hinted her presence alone might make a meeting possible, but it appeared that wasn't the case. Did Starrk know she was of his bloodline? If he knew the truth, would he be willing to meet with her? Was she willing to use blood ties to persuade him?

"Why?" Ashido demanded, managing to keep his voice from rising and disrupting the festivities below.

Nelliel bowed her head in apology. "While Mr. Starrk appreciates the effort and lengths you've gone through to find and reach out to him, he, unfortunately, cannot accommodate you."

She turned to leave, but Ashido reached out and hooked her elbow. She froze, her eyes slowly traversing down to where his hand lay. Hard brown turned on dark grey and Ashido quickly released his hold on her.

"Sorry," he hissed, as if suffering from a severe burn, "but you have to understand, I need to speak with him. The Japanese Council-"

"Mr. Kano," Nelliel interrupted, her voice and stance rigid and unmovable. "You have my sincerest apologies, but his decision is made. Now, if you will both excuse me." Bowing politely, she turned and left.

Running his hands through his hair, Ashido growled and cursed, then slammed his fist into the marble column beside him. She flinched as the soft stone crumbled beneath his knuckles. The music carried on uninterrupted.

"We could try again," Rukia offered. This was their first real attempt to get in touch with Starrk. It wasn't like either of them to give up on the first try.

Shaking the dusty residue from his hand, he gave her a terse smile. "Oh I will. It may not be here or even tonight, but I'll try again. That woman, she isn't just some secretary, and pissing her off even more than I already have would be dangerous. I'd rather give her a chance to cool down before a second attempt."

There was no mistake that Nelliel wasn't just a vampire. Something about her set the pair of them on edge, nagging voices telling them to tread carefully despite their skills and experience.

"In the end," Ashido continued, "if we still don't meet him it's not going to change the fact we need to deal with Aizen and the threat he poses. The chancellors will have to convince the others to get their shit together without the First getting involved."

Taking a deep, calming breath, he turned his eyes to her. Reaching out, he nearly grazed her jawline with his knuckles, but dropped his hand to the side. "Thank you, for listening to me, and for telling me about what happened. I. . ." He hesitated, clearly wanting to continue, but thought better of it. "I'll see you back at the hotel."

It didn't feel right to let him walk away, but what else could she offer him? In the end, it was the same as before. She took from him what she needed and gave him nothing. Sighing, she leaned on the rail and wondered if anything had been resolved.

"Ms. Kuchiki?"

Nelliel stood beside her, holding out a stark white business card. Her name, Nelliel Tu Odelschwank, was printed in neat clear font on the front. Flipping it over, an address in sweeping script was on the back.

"Be there by midnight. Come alone."

And then she was gone, leaving Rukia baffled. It was an invitation, the one both she and Ashido had hoped to receive, but it was for her alone. Did she tell him? It felt wrong to keep this a secret after they'd managed to mend some part of the collapsing bridge that was their relationship, but to bring him along would risk ruining this one opportunity. If she met the First, she could get the answers to both of their questions. Convinced he would agree with her decision, she determined anything important, she could share with him as soon as she returned.

But what did she tell Ichigo?

To leave him behind would be an insult and a broken promise she was intent on keeping. They were in this together, but if that meant they couldn't make any progress, would he be willing to separate?

Ichigo's head crested the stairs and he made his way down the hall towards her. Glancing down at the floor below, Rukia spotted Orihime with Hideki and Agent Thompson. Ashido wasn't in sight.

"What happened?" Ichigo asked as he joined her, his voice lined with concern and an edge of irritation.

"What do you mean?"

"Ashido is supposed to be with you and I just spotted him sneaking out a side exit looking like he'd gotten a demotion."

An apt choice of words, she thought with mild amusement. A demotion would certainly have an effect on him considering the pride he took in his work. "One of Starrk's people came to find us. He's refused to meet with him."

Ichigo waited a moment, shoving his hands in his pockets. "'Him' not 'we'?"

She handed him the card. "At midnight I'm supposed to go to that address. Alone."

As expected, he scowled and handed her the card back. "Like hell you're going by yourself. It could be a trap."

"There's a chance of that," she admitted, non-plussed. "But if I don't go, we could lose the opportunity to speak with Starrk."

Judging by the strained muscle in his neck, Ichigo wasn't bending. "I don't care. You're not going by yourself. We'll get what we need to some other way. And don't think you can just sneak off. I'll find you."

Rukia couldn't help the amused smirk that graced her lips. There was no doubt Ichigo would carry through with his threat. She would rather have him by her side when she faced Starrk and tell him the truth, then have Ichigo come barging in and upsetting everything. "All right."

Ichigo stared at her in disbelief, clearly expecting more of a fight. "Really?"

She nodded.

Ichigo's features grew more sincere. "That means he might not show."

"It does, but as much as I'd like to meet him, ask him my questions, I'm not going to cling to him for answers. I want to know the truth of what happened to me, of what this all means, but if I don't get answers then I don't. We'll continue hunting Aizen like we have been. Ashido's prepared to do the same."

Ichigo nodded, though looked doubtful. She stepped beside him, beginning the slow walk down the hall and towards the main floor. The scent of vanilla wafted towards her - Agent Inoue's scent. Something tugged at her, but she ignored it.

"We've got some time before the meeting. We can head back to the hotel, grab a shower, and get a change of clothes," Ichigo suggested, stepping into the place beside her.

Unbidden, the image of the pair of them showering together infiltrated her mind. Cursing and blaming Ashido, she chased her imaginings it away and focused on the conversation. "I would like to head back and change, and get my sword as well." The dress was lovely, and it had been nice getting dressed up once more, but now they needed to get back to work.

The corner of Ichigo's nose curled a little before he schooled his features.

"What?"

"I'd prefer it if you took a shower."

She stopped and glared at him. He flinched in reaction and began an emphatic apology.

"I didn't mean - I just - shit."

'Shit' was right. No woman, no matter her feelings towards a person, liked to be told she needed a shower. It was insulting, and - though she wasn't keen to admit it - a little painful.

When he continued to flounder, she chose to drop the matter entirely and start to head downstairs. Before she could reach the landing he took hold of her by the wrist.

"Wait, let me explain."

The feeling of his hand wrapped around her arm felt different than when Ashido had done it. Warm waves pulsed up the length of her arm, stemming her temper rather than fueling it. When he released her, Rukia felt surprisingly cold.

"His scent is all over you," he turned his gaze away bashfully.

She frowned, confused as to who she could smell like, and then it clicked. There was only one other person she could smell like. Given the way she'd wrapped herself around him earlier, his scent must be fairly strong. Realization dawned on her. Agent Inoue more than likely put two and two together and thought she would give the pair of them some time alone. Although her assumptions had been incorrect, Rukia couldn't help but feel grateful. It gave them time to talk and clear the air, even if things were still a bit foggy.

Given Ichigo's dislike of the man, it was understandable that he would be displeased with smelling him on her. A shower seemed a bit extreme, but she was tired and uninterested in picking a fight.

"I'll take a quick shower when we get back."

"Don't bother," he grumbled. "It doesn't matter if you're going to end up smelling like him again."

Someone clearly wanted a fight. Irritation flared to life at his presumption. Why was everyone making assumptions about her love life? Like Ashido, she would set Ichigo straight on the matter. "The chances of that happening are minimal. The only reason I smell like him now is because he came to my room earlier." She held up a hand to keep him quiet when he started to ask a question. "We established where our relationship currently stands."

"And where is that, exactly?"

She started to answer and realized she wasn't too sure herself. They weren't lovers. That was easy enough to answer. They weren't enemies either. They were in some kind of nebulous place that shifted to and fro with no real form. How did she explain that?

"It's. . ." she searched for the words, "complicated. Hold on!"

Ichigo had started to turn away from her, but she clutched his arm. "Let me at least explain." He studied her dubiously but didn't move.

The last place she wanted to go was to that part of her past. It had been so long ago, but the memories of it were still sore and she feared reopening those wounds. But like Ashido, Ichigo deserved to hear the truth.

"Ashido and I first met a little more than a century ago. At that point in my life, I wasn't a Hunter. I'd heard of them, of what they did, and decided I wanted to train with them. It was a decade or so after I. . ." she took a shaky breath and continued, "after I lost my husband. I wasn't in a good place, and I wasn't much better when I arrived. I was furious, bitter, and looking for someone or something to take it out on. Ashido was training the hunter team when I joined. He helped me take those emotions and focus them to my advantage. He was patient and understanding, but unwilling to give me any slack. With time he made me into a good hunter and helped me to move past my grief."

She wanted to keep her explanation brief and concise, not wanting to linger lest she tore open those wounds, but she ended up telling him everything. Those years following Kaien's death were drenched in suffocating darkness. Very poor decisions were made and her family continued to grow increasingly concerned for her health and well-being. When she'd suggested becoming a hunter they were split. The role was dangerous, but it was the first time she'd shown interested in anything in years. And Ashido's record spoke for itself. For over half a century he had grown his reputation for training some of the best hunters in the territory. She would be safe with him.

The first day she arrived he put her in line. She wasn't permitted to work with the team or go on any hunts until she proved herself capable. It took a few months, and he didn't take it easy on her. Didn't baby her. Didn't pity her. She'd hated him, but she'd respected him as well. She came to him a destroyed shell of a girl and left almost a completely whole woman.

It was difficult to remember how their love affair began. They'd gotten separated from the team when they were on some mission, holed up in a makeshift tent waiting for the weather to clear. They were arguing about something stupid - the best approach to luring out their target or something similar. It got heated, their tempers high due to the amount of trouble they'd already run into. One thing led to another and continued for quite some time after that.

She wasn't sure when she knew Ashido loved her. He never confessed, probably never planned to. It was bad enough they were having an illicit relationship while in the same unit, to admit to loving her was adding another level of risk. She convinced herself his feelings would wane. Even after everything that happened between them, how much he'd helped her, she still wasn't ready for that kind of commitment. Her heart still belonged to Kaien.

But those feelings of his didn't change. When she realized he was willing to put it all aside for her, risk everything he worked for to maintain a relationship she knew wasn't worth someone as good as he was, she chose to leave.

Her father was beginning to establish the Harvest Chambers, and was thrilled with the prospect of her joining him. When the paperwork was made official, she ended things. She could have been more civil when she told him she wanted to move on, but he'd been so insistent on keeping things going, it was the only way she thought to end things. Clearly, that hadn't worked.

"Ashido never wanted to end things, but I didn't give him a choice or say in the matter. Once I was back with my family, I was unreachable. And then," she clenched her jaw, her throat swelling and making it difficult to breathe. "Then my family was killed. And, well, you know the rest."

Rukia watched the cellist slide the bow across her strings, the motion of her arm soft and graceful. It calmed the torrent of emotions that beat at her like a blistering storm.

"London was the first we'd seen one another since then. The way he acted, I thought he had moved on like I hoped. If he was still mad or in love with me, I would have expected a stronger reaction. Once we were here, though. . . He came to my room and tried to pick up where we left off."

Ichigo was silent, but his gaze was intense, waiting anxiously for her to continue.

"I think we're finally on the same page. That part of our lives is over. There's no going back to it, and he understands that now."

"Why?" She could see the regret on his face as soon as the words were out. What he was afraid of in her answer, she wasn't sure, but she would be honest. Her fingers tightened their hold on his arm in what she hoped was a comforting squeeze.

"Because I don't want to go back. Despite everything that has happened in the past two years, I'm content with where I'm at in my life. "

She gave his arm another squeeze and took a step away. He grabbed her hand and pulled her back to him. She nearly tripped into his arms. Pressing her hands to his chest, she righted herself. One arm slipped around her back and held her close. Her heart pounded in her ears and she stared up at him.

"What are you doing?"

"Just be quiet and dance with me."

She thought to argue with him, none too thrilled he was ordering her around, but being in his arms sent waves of consoling warmth coursing through her. Her heart hurt. The memories, long ago put behind a wall and banished to the far reaches of her mind, scattered and laying exposed to the elements. It was better for her to be alone, to gather them all up, piece by piece, and rebuild it on her own, but he was right beside her. It was pathetic. Ichigo was her bodyguard and protector in name only. He was her responsibility, not the other way around. And yet, she couldn't push him away, couldn't slip from the blanket of warmth and security he wrapped around her. It was wrong to take advantage, but for now, she would indulge herself

* * *

 **Author's Note:** Not a lot of action in this chapter - well, none except for a lot of arm grabbing. After the last chapter, I wanted to delve further into Rukia and Ashido's relationship and history. I know left things kind of vague in the previous chapter, and I hope this one helps explain where both of them are coming from.

I want to thank the guest who left an amazing (and monstrous) review. I wish I could have responded to you in PM, but I think it's probably good to respond here as well, for others who might have felt the same way about the last chapter. You left such a great analysis and criticism of Rukia and the chapter. I know you were unhappy with how she treated Ashido, feeling that she wasn't the only victim in this. You're totally right, and Rukia knows she wronged him in a multitude of ways. I hope that came across more in this chapter, although I'm sure it didn't resolve all your qualms with her attitude. To be fair to Rukia, in the hotel room she might have handled the situation a bit differently if Ashido hadn't implied she was fucking (and I use that term specifically because it reflects Ashido's view and intended implication of Rukia and Ichigo's relationship) Ichigo simply because he looked liked Kaien. This was particularly cruel to Rukia because Ashido was there for the aftermath of Kaien's death. He knew what Kaien meant to her, and his insinuation felt like he was insulting her love for Kaien.

That being said, I know everything isn't really resolved, but I hope this chapter helped explain a bit more of the last chapter. And don't worry, Ashido and Orihime aren't just plot devices intended to push Ichigo and Rukia together ;). They're here for a reason and they will have their roles to play as the story moves forward.

Thank you and several others who have said similar things, for trusting in my writing and waiting to see how things play out. I know I have a habit of withholding information from you guys, and you trusting that I'll explain and flesh things out is the best compliment I've received. Thank you so much and I hope I continue to earn that trust and don't disappoint you guys!

Thanks to those who favorited and followed, and to those who left reviews: **Haru, NieveDrop, the amazing guest who left the essay,** and **MugetsuIchigo**. I love reading your guy's thoughts on the chapters. Please continue to R &R!

P.S. I discovered today that FF doesn't allow for the posting of links. So, if you'd like to see Rukia's dress, you can find it in my profile.


	12. Chapter Eleven

**Author's Soundtrack:  
** Seven by Blueneck

* * *

 **Chapter Eleven**

* * *

When they got back to the hotel, Rukia was quick to slip out of her dress, shower, and grab something more appropriate for a rooftop meeting by twilight. Really, anything would have worked, but she selected her usual dark top and slacks, ensuring she wouldn't stand out against the dark of the night sky as they traveled. When she was ready, she met Ichigo on the roof of the hotel and together they headed towards the rendezvous point.

The FCA agents had been a concern at first. Although Agent Inoue and a few other agents left the hotel for the night, a small team of agents remained behind to "assist" them should they need anything. Rukia worried they wouldn't be able to slip away without being noticed. However, the agents seemed more interested in relaxing down at the hotel bar than keeping an eye on them. Hideki joined them, taking care of half of the Japanese team as well. Ashido was a concern as well, but he'd holed himself up in his room for the night. They were free and clear to take their leave.

Heavy crowds, construction work, and the paranoid feeling of being tailed forced Rukia and Ichigo to take a few detours rather than a direct route. She worried the additional time would make them late. Punctuality, especially at first meetings, was a trait Byakuya practically beat into her. Considering this was the First, the thought of being even a minute late was intolerable.

When the building was in sight, Rukia sighed in relief. Despite the delays, they would be early. Byakuya would be proud. Rukia noted figures standing on the roof. He would have also been pleased that Starrk and his people were also early.

And suspicious.

Signaling for them to halt their progress, Rukia ducked behind a large air conditioning unit. Ichigo did the same. Together, they peeked out from their hiding locations on an adjacent building. There were nine vampires scattered about the roof, their dispositions seemingly casual. From this distance, however, Rukia could see the strategic placement of each.

Standing closest to them was Nelliel. Two men were beside her - one large and squat, the other tall and lanky. Their mixed builds prepared them for a variety of attacks and allowed for a more diverse defense.

Only a few feet away was another group of three, all of them women. None of them were in the files, leaving Rukia to wonder if they were brand new to Starrk's following. They looked quick, ready to disperse and secure the rooftop and anyone who might slip by Nelliel and her companions.

A solitary vampire was positioned further away from the others. Unlike the others, he wasn't scouring the other buildings for any sign of Rukia. Smoking a cigarette, he glowered at the crowd of people on the streets below with disgust and disdain. His disinterest in his surroundings could have been mistaken for laziness, but the tense muscles framed by his shirt hinted at his readiness and prowess. He was ready to act a moment's notice and use brute force to deal with anyone unwanted. She almost didn't recognize him, except for that unusual pale blue hair. The Lady's files listed his name as Grimmjow.

Then there was the porcelain doll, a small woman with pale skin and large green eyes. She might have been cute, except for the look of utter revulsion twisting the corner of her nose. Though small and seemingly harmless, Rukia knew she was possibly the most dangerous of the bunch. The Lady's files listed her as Starrk's oldest known companion. While Starrk might be strong and protective of his friends, their kind didn't live this long due to connections and luck.

Without a doubt, every single person on that roof was dangerous, and they were all waiting for her. She was beginning to regret bringing Ichigo along. If things went wrong, as they were apt to do, she didn't want him getting caught up in it. Then again, she wasn't keen on facing off with a small battalion alone.

"I don't like this," Ichigo grumbled quietly. "Why are there so many of them? Did he need to bring a whole damn entourage?"

It did leave her to wonder. Did he feel threatened by her? Was he worried she would betray him? Or had his people insisted on coming along, like Ichigo? Before she could give it much more thought, the wind shifted. It had been blowing in their favor, concealing their arrival, but now it wafted their scents towards the large grouping.

At once, they all turned their heads in their direction. As mismatched as they all appeared to be, they were unified in their defense of Starrk. It was fascinating - and frustrating. She'd hoped for a little more time to evaluate the situation and determine her next steps. Now, they would have to work on the fly.

Ichigo gripped her shoulder, catching her attention, and gave her a firm shark of his head. He didn't like it and didn't want her heading over there. She didn't blame him, but she wanted to meet with Starrk. What would be the point of him summoning her only to betray her? What benefit could she give him?

Ichigo growled and tried to stop her as she stepped out from her cover, but she shook off his hand and leapt over to the other roof.

Gravel crackled and churned under her feet as she landed. She eyed the others as they watched her, unmoving. Ichigo landed beside her. She cringed as he moved to stand in front of her, his hand on the hilt of her father's sword.

"Told ya she wouldn't leave the ginger shit at home." Grimmjow was sneering at the pair of them. Ichigo growled and Grimmjow's smile only widened. He was trying to antagonize him, and it was working. What was it the file said? He enjoyed fighting and cutting loose? The last thing she wanted was Ichigo going head-to-head with someone as old and experienced as Grimmjow.

"Ichigo, that's enough," she warned. When he ignored her, she huffed and moved around him and coming face-to-face with Nelliel.

Back at the gala, the woman had been stoic and unmoving - a Grecian statue of calm. Now, her lips were pressed into a thin line, her olive skin tinged with a furious flush in her anger. It was an intimidating sight to behold, but Rukia wouldn't cower. Completely surrounded, showing any sign of weakness could be a death sentence.

"You were instructed to come alone." Nelliel's tone was even, the complete antithesis of her seething form.

"Normally, I might have obliged," Rukia replied cooly. "However, Ichigo is my personal guard. He goes where I go, no matter the situation. Even if I asked him to remain behind, he would have followed me. Instead of having him lurk about in the shadows, risking the misconception I was betraying you, I thought it more prudent to have him beside me when I arrived."

Tipping her head back, Rukia stared down her nose at Nelliel in defiant challenge. It was stupid. This wasn't a political arena. Nelliel wasn't a competitor she needed to stare down, but it felt important to show her - and the rest of them - she wouldn't cower.

Nelliel narrowed her eyes, taking her challenge head on. "And how do we know you didn't bring more than just him with you?"

So that's why they brought so many with them. It wasn't to set a trap, but to defend against an ambush. It was logical, and she couldn't fault them for it. They didn't know her, didn't know where her loyalties lay. And there was very little she could do to assuage their concerns.

"I suppose if I had, you would already know by now."

The others turned their attentions back to the other buildings. From their positions, they could see most of the rooftops, it was probably why they had chosen the location. It was easy to see if others were coming, especially in large groups.

Grimmjow scoffed in disappointment when he found no one.

Feeling justified, Rukia continued. "I'm not here to try to capture Starrk. I only came to talk and hopefully get some answers."

Nelliel stared at her, assessing whether or not she was speaking the truth or trying to deceive them. A throat cleared and Nelliel turned to a man standing at the furthest end of the roof. Starrk stood on the ledge, wind whipping his hair about, masking the chiseled features of his face. While she couldn't read his eyes, his body language was another matter. It was weighted down, shoulders slumped and back curved in what looked like utter defeat. Surrounded by these people willing to defend him no matter the cost, this city with all its noise and life, and he still stood there as if he was completely and utterly alone; a beacon cast out to sea, sought after by many and yet still suffering isolation.

Lilynette jabbed him in the side with her elbow, jolting him from his thoughts. With a nod of his head, Nelliel sighed her resignation and motioned for Rukia to approach. The others parted, giving her a clear path to Starrk. In only a few yards, she was in front of the first of their kind, the last remaining blood connection she had. There were so many things she wanted to ask him, so many things to learn, and so many things to be scared of. This man held the answers and now she hesitated, unsure if she wanted to hear any of them.

Then he raised his hand and motioned for her to come forward. It stretched out before him, open and welcoming, and she found herself taking those last steps. She bowed respectfully and then stared. What did she say? What did she ask? Where did she start?

A familiar voice chided her in her head - she should start with the basics.

"Thank you for the invitation."

He stepped down from the ledge and smiled at her. It was soft and warm, soothe her nerves, which were bundled up in a tightly knotted ball.

"You have questions, but allow me to ask one first. If you don't mind."

She blinked and then nodded. It hadn't occurred to her he had questions of his own.

"How did you find me? I know you came over from England, your friend from Japan, but what made you look for me here? Who gave you my name?"

It hadn't occurred to her he would wonder such a thing. Nelliel had given her the impression Starrk was already aware of their movements, and she figured the Lady had already been in contact with him. Given her personality, Rukia could believe the Lady would keep such a matter to herself, most likely thinking it would make for a great joke.

"The Lady offered up information about your current alias," she explained. "The Japanese Chancellor is her adopted son and he sought you out through her."

"And you?" There was a flicker of something in his eyes, a brief glimpse of what looked like overwhelmingly sorrowful, and then it was gone.

"She suggested I join them here when I meet with you."

The corners of his lips twitched into a pained smile, but it quickly vanished, pushed aside and stamped out.

"And how is Beltis these days?"

Whatever that feeling was, he didn't want to linger on it, and she wasn't going to keep him there.

"She seems to be well," Rukia offered politely. "Not nearly as frightening as I imagined her to be."

Starrk chuckled, a deep sound the reminded her of her father.

"I've heard the rumors. She must be quite pleased with herself, becoming some kind of Baba Yaga. Don't be deceived by her appearance. She may be blind, but she isn't one to be trifled with. Those legends are not all exaggerations." His lips spread into a wide, menacing grin, baring his long canines.

"Seriously?" Ichigo asked hesitantly. Starrk's grin widened, though morphing into something more playful.

"She was rather enthusiastic in her younger days. Her eyes," he pointed to his own for emphasis, "were permanently damaged by a high priest she offended. He managed to concoct a poultice that prevented cellular regeneration - quite impressive considering it was before the fall of Babylon. As her revenge, she strapped him to a wooden beam, cut the flesh from his bones, and fed the raw pieces to him one by one."

Ichigo blanched and even Rukia felt her stomach twist in revulsion.

The little vampire beside Starrk prodded him in the ribs and he cleared his throat.

"I apologize. I've been told I prattle on incessantly and spend far too much time reminiscing about the past rather than deal with the present." The sideways glance he gave Lilynette implied she was the one who had told him as much.

"Now for your questions." His smile had fallen and a mask of practiced apathy settled in its place. It was a little disconcerting, but she pushed on.

"Why did you exclude the Japanese Council agent in this meeting?" It wasn't the question she really wanted to ask. It wasn't what nagged at her, tugged at the tip of her tongue, but she felt she owed it to Ashido.

He almost seemed a little disappointed as he replied. "Because there would be no point to it. I simply don't have the answers to his questions."

"True immortality?" If Starrk was offended by Ichigo speaking up, he didn't show any indication. Lilynette, however, snarled at him to be quiet.

"I'll admit, I've experimented with my own life to a certain degree. Several millennia does wear on one after a period of time." The flash of emotion was back as his eyes locked with hers. "But so far nothing has been successful."

The grim expressions of the others spoke volumes of his attempts. This man was special to them, though she didn't know how and didn't think she ever would, but it was clear they all cared for him. To know that he sought to end his life and leave them beyond was a pain she could not and did not want to imagine. Even now, knowing that her own life might mirror his, the thought of succumbing to the solitude and anguish reflecting in those eyes was unimaginable. Her desire to capture and bring justice to Aizen prevented her from seeing too far into the future, and she was grateful for it.

Except, Aizen could not be killed. Although Starrk did not share the details of his attempts, it was likely all of his methods encompassed the most basic approaches. How many ways were there to kill a person? What were the chances of them finding that one method that worked? It was a risk they couldn't take. They would need to find another way to deal with him.

The thought of a lifetime imprisonment didn't sit well with her.

"What are your other questions?" Starrk asked. He stared down at her with that smile and she felt she could ask him anything. Was it their blood connection that made her feel at ease, or was it his general demeanor? What were the chances that the man who was her ancestor, the man who began it all, had such a gentle soul? How had he managed to survive the world without being twisted and tainted by the life and death that surrounded him? Aizen would never be like him. Would she? Could she maintain her self after so long?

"You know, don't you?" She asked, studying him. It wasn't clear how much information Starrk had on their world, on current events, on her, but there were moments when he seemed to be fully aware of everything. And yet, there was a certain detachment that felt like he was only guessing. With the way he looked at her, watched her, smiled sadly at her, she couldn't help but feel as if he knew everything.

"I do," he replied. "When did the abilities first manifest themselves?"

"Almost immediately. After I woke up, I used them and killed a man."

A hint of pride bubbled to the surface as Starrk looked impressed.

"So quickly? It seems you may have a knack for the powers, though it is a shame you were exposed. I have tried to be careful with my blood, but as you can see, that isn't always the case. To be honest, I never wanted to make more people like me. My own tribe despised me, banished me die in the desert for what I was, when I was but a child. I didn't wish for anyone to experience such hatred in their lives."

He drifted away, physically and mentally, his eyes searching the city around him for a distant memory he longed to touch yet feared to recall.

"As a kid?" Ichigo asked, baffled and perturbed by the concept. It pulled Starrk back to them before Lilynette could slap him across the head.

"They were afraid of me," he answered simply. "My mother, the chief's first and most beloved wife, died giving birth to me. From that day he hated me. He would have crushed my skull with a rock if he had another heir. It was difficult for him to rear me, even more so when I started showing signs of what I truly was. They turned the other cheek when I drank from the goats, whispered about the demon child and avoided me, but they did nothing to stop me. And then another son was born to him and that all changed.

"I should have died in the desert. One of my mother's loyal nursemaids followed after me. I'm still not sure why. She was old and nearly blind, but still, she left her home for some broken child. She was frail, quiet, and constantly falling behind, but in the end, I found that I needed her far more than she needed me."

That soft smile was back, his mind fading as he remembered the woman who had saved him.

"Together, we traveled across the lands to find a new home. Scattered, friendly villages would take us in, only to cast us out when they found their livestock nearly dead or dying. I'd known all my life I was an anomaly. There were no others like me, and no one accepted me but her. Eventually, though, it was too much for her and I left her behind to enjoy the last of her days."

She expected to see tears in his eyes, recalling the feelings of leaving behind the only person from his village who loved him, but she saw only happiness there. After all this time, he still appreciated what the nursemaid had done for him.

"I travelled alone for some time, feeding on beasts when the need arose. I avoided people as much as possible, especially when I hadn't fed in quite some time. But youth makes us unwise. I thought myself in control of my hunger and stumbled on the one that would be the first of our kind when I was nearly dead of starvation. I didn't kill her, mind you, but I didn't mean to turn her either. Her transformation was a complete accident."

"You remember the first vampire you created?" Ichigo asked incredulously. Lilynette gnashed her teeth and moved to strike him, but Rukia stood in her path and Starrk motioned for her to stand down. Lilynette narrowed her eyes at Ichigo in warning and stepped back.

"Is that what we're called now?" Starrk asked curiously. The collective groan from around the rooftop alleviated some of the tension between Ichigo and Lilynette.

"Idiot, I've been telling you that for centuries," Lilynette griped. Starrk smiled apologetically and turned to Ichigo.

"She is difficult to forget," he continued. Guilt marred his features, but it wasn't heavy like Rukia expected. There was a small tug at his lips, indicated something more. "Although I didn't mean to turn her, I'll admit that I'm glad I found her. It's one of the few decisions I would gladly repeat."

Rukia and the others waited with unrestrained curiosity. It appeared this was a story he hadn't shared with his companions, and they were anxious to know about this mysterious woman.

"You are like her, in some ways. That pride, passion, and unbreakable tenacity - she had them too. Your appearances are different. With a few generations in between, the bloodline has become more Asian rather than Babylonian, but there are hints here and there. Those eyes, though - she had the most vibrant amethyst eyes."

His wife. Her ancestor. The first he had turned was the first he had loved, and she had dragged him out of the depths of his loneliness. Knowing that was. . . she didn't know. It was difficult to put the feelings into words. Whatever it was, it was quickly overtaken by sorrow. That woman was nowhere to be found on the rooftop. She wasn't in the files. She had died, like so many others.

"Why didn't you give her your blood?" Ichigo asked. It might have seemed insensitive, but Rukia could see the sympathy he felt for Starrk, the wonder as to why he would choose to let her go.

Starrk smiled sadly, and she wasn't sure if it was full of remorse. "Honestly, I might have, had I known it was my blood that would have saved her. At the time, I didn't know the limits of our people, of myself. Had I known a little sooner, she might. . ."

Lilynette stood beside him. Instead of striking him, she put a hand on his shoulder. The two of them shared a look, one of mourning shared between child and parent. Rukia wondered if Lilynette had known his wife and wished for the same.

"But," Starrk said suddenly, pulling himself back into the conversation, "once I did learn about my blood's powers, I tried to make sure it would not pass to others."

"And those who have had your blood, displayed these powers, were they able to control them?" Rukia asked, anticipation suddenly clawing at her.

"Not all, but some," he said with a rare and playful smile.

"How?" She asked, taking a step forward. None of the other's moved, waiting to see what his answer might be.

"Shall I teach you?" Amusement stretched from his smile to the glint in his eye as she nodded her head, almost vigorously.

"Please."

Even if Aizen was truly immortal, Rukia was sure her powers could be used to subdue him. Remembering Kaname encased in a freezing pillar, she began to formulate the kind of prison she could create for Aizen should she finally have control over her abilities.

"She used to get the same look when she was plotting something," Starrk mused. "I imagine you want full control sooner rather than later. Full mastery takes decades, but if you are truly dedicated, you should be able to use your abilities with some dexterity in a few months."

Her smile fell. They didn't have months.

"I suppose that isn't soon enough," he observed. "Aizen has already placed his pieces on the board, and soon he will be ready to act."

Rukia stiffened with surprise. "You know about Aizen?"

He hadn't known of the Lady, of their movements, until they directly crossed his path. She thought him unaware of the current situation, focused only on the world the immediately surrounded him.

"Although I choose to hide myself away from time to time, it doesn't mean I'm entirely ignorant of the world around me. Besides, that man has been searching for me for quite some time. He made it surprisingly far without having the benefit of your connections."

"Arrogant douche bag," Grimmjow grumbled, and Rukia wondered if he'd met Aizen personally.

"Since then, we've been keeping tabs on him."

"Tabs?"

"A friend of mine is working closely with him, feeding us information."

"Does that mean you know where is right now? What he's planning?" Ichigo demanded. He might have sounded desperate at first, but now she could hear the underlying threat in his tone and saw his hand on the hilt of the sword again. So could the others.

"How about you take your hand off that stupid ass knife before I cut it off?" Grimmjow warned, now standing much closer to them than he was before. Ichigo turned, ready to face him, but Rukia placed - what she hoped - was a calming hand on his arm. His muscles rippled beneath her touch, taught and ready to snap. After a year of searching, they finally met someone who could point them directly to Aizen. With that information, they could put an end to this. Ichigo could finally be reunited with his remaining family, and he wasn't about to let anyone stand in his way. But they needed to tread carefully.

Starrk indicated to Grimmjow to stand down. The man scoffed and took a few steps back, giving Ichigo the finger as he did so. Ichigo snarled, but Rukia kept a firm grip on his arm.

"He travels frequently, gathering test subjects, evaluating those he's already released. He's been very busy experimenting with genetic modification using my blood and other means, but these are only pieces of the puzzle. We don't know what the full picture is. Even after years of loyalty, he has not been forthcoming in that regard."

Rukia was stunned by Starrk's lack of concern. Hadn't he been worried about the unrestrained use of his blood? About changing more people to be like him? And yet he didn't care whether Aizen was manipulating it? Changing it? Controlling it?

"For someone who wants to keep his blood from being passed to others, you're certainly blasé about a sociopath playing mad scientist with it," Ichigo snapped.

Rukia tightened her hold on Ichigo, stopping him from advancing forward. The others were beginning to close ranks. One look from Starrk, and they wouldn't hold back.

"My friend is keeping an eye on him."

"And will your friend step in to stop him?"

"Measures will be taken to ensure he doesn't go too far."

Ichigo barked, his laugh sharp like a knife. "Excuse me for not taking you at your word. You've known about Aizen for how long? And yet you allowed him to roam free, search for you, for your blood, hunt and kill your family, and you did _nothing_!"

The words struck her like a blow to the gut. It hadn't occurred to her that Starrk might have known what Aizen was up to, known what danger her family faced. He could have warned her family, told them what was coming or helped them to prepare. If he'd reached out to them, would they still be alive? Would she have them by her side as they hunted Aizen down?

Starrk took a long, deep breath, as if Ichigo had revealed the ghosts that clung to him. The deep slate color of his eyes darkened under the turmoil of his decisions. In those eyes, she saw someone who longed to reach out and touch those who should be closest to him, only to sever those ties for the safety and benefit of all involved. He was a risk to them. They were a risk to him.

He didn't beg for forgiveness, didn't offer up excuses or platitudes, but as he looked at her she knew he regretted a great deal. If he could go back and make a different decision, he would. But he couldn't. What was done was done. At the end of it all, there was only one man to blame for what happened to her family.

"Will you tell us where he is?" She asked, dismissing all of Ichigo's questions that pulled and tugged at her heart.

"At the moment, he is on the hunt for more subjects. During this time, our source cannot be reached." Starrk offered regretfully. "He has many labs around the world, and we won't know until the end of the hunt which one he will head to."

"Would you tell us even then?"

As he started to answer, he closed his mouth again, frowning as he considered what he would do. Why not tell them? Why help them only to stop here? What did he fear would happen once they knew?

Rukia's phone rang, startling her. She should have ignored it, focused on their conversation until she got an answer out of Starrk, but when she recognized the number belonged to Shinji's tech contact she picked it up.

"Kuchiki."

" _Ms. Kuchiki, this is Mark Wilson. I know it's a bit late where you are right now, but I thought you'd want to know what I found out about those chips you sent me."_

Her gaze flickered to Ichigo and he caught on that he needed to listen. "What did you find?"

" _Quite a lot, actually. These little guys were packed full of information. It took me a bit longer to crack into them because there was a pretty complicated encryption protecting the data. But, once I was in, it was a gold mine. Most of the data is biological information about the vamps these guys were stuck in. they were tracking all the normal body functions, as well as blood intake and brain patterns. They were also sending that data to a location. I tried pinpointing where, but the signal was bouncing around the globe like a rabbit on steroids."_

She sighed, pressing her head to her forehead. "So we don't have a location?"

"Yes and no. . . Before the little bastards fried on me I narrowed it down to the Americas."

It wasn't a lot - if anything. The Americas were huge continents. Sure, it was better than scouring the whole globe looking for him, but it wasn't by much. And, given Starrk's information, Aizen wasn't staying in one location for too long. Maybe the signal was bouncing because Aizen was traveling that much.

Her brain halted when she realized something the tech said.

"What do you mean by 'fried'?"

Wilson laughed nervously. " _I was kind of hoping you glazed over that bit. During my little mining excursion, the chips overloaded - but don't worry! I backed up all the data I found, so we didn't lose anything."_

"Way to bury the lead," Ichigo remarked sardonically.

"Get the information on a backup drive and make sure it's encrypted. Send a copy to Dr. Sarah Collins and have her evaluate the biological data. Send copies to myself and Shinji as well."

" _Will do. Tah."_

"We have a lead," she informed Ichigo, putting her phone away. Starrk watched, his expression guarded. Through the cracks, she could see pride and apprehension. For some reason, he didn't want her finding Aizen. Would that mean he would take back the offer to help train her?

"You'll be leaving then?" He asked, disappointment eeking through his composed demeanor.

"Only if you're retracting your offer." Starrk looked mildly shocked. "We don't have an exact location on Aizen, and until we do, or we find another lead, I think it would be beneficial to get a handle on my powers."

"It's the least I can do," he replied, that soft smile returning.

Relief washed over her, glad he was still willing to train her. If she was right, it would be the only way to stop Aizen. "I'll file the proper paperwork with the FCA in the morning. We need to get back before someone realizes we slipped out."

She nodded farewell as she began to step away, but stopped. Glancing over her shoulder, she said, "Thank you."

Ichigo was on her heels as she leapt to another building and began heading back to the hotel. In the silence of their travel, she could feel the anger rolling off him in scorching waves. By the time they landed on the hotel roof, he was ready to explode.

"He's lying to us," Ichigo seethed, marching towards the access door before turning sharply and headed back towards her.

"About?" She asked, finding it safer to investigate rather than counter.

"Aizen. He knows where he is, he's just not telling us!"

Rukia flinched as his voice grew louder, and silently hoped there wasn't anyone staying in the penthouse.

"Potentially."

Ichigo whirled, turning those furious eyes on her. "Then why the hell didn't you press him for the location? All we need is that information and we can finally end this bullshit!"

"It wouldn't get us anywhere-"

"Bullshit! We could storm that asshole's lab right now and end this!"

"It's not that simple-"

"The fuck is isn't!"

He was frustrated and indignant. The answer was in front of him, or so he thought, and like usual, he wanted to run in head first. He never stopped to think before he acted. Go after Aizen, fight an army, change his world, save her life, meddle in other's affairs - it was all done on impulse, gut reaction. And where had it gotten him?

She needed him to see reason, think about their situation, and plan accordingly. You didn't face Aizen head on. You had to get ahead of him and come at him from the side. It's how her mother and aunt had deceived him for so long. But he couldn't think clearly when all he could see was red.

"It isn't simple," she stated again, setting an edge to her voice that caused him to slow his pace. "Aizen isn't a fool. He will be prepared for an attack. We need to think about this, plan it, and we need more than just us. But the councils are in chaos, bickering and snapping at one another while a madman destroys the world around them. England doesn't have the manpower to go after him without support. And if we go on alone, we would be walking into a war zone with nothing but the clothes on our backs. "

He tried to argue, but she clamped her hand over his mouth and dared him to struggle against her with a glare. She would not be interrupted again. "Starrk _is_ keeping Aizen's location a secret, but I'm willing to accept that, especially since he is giving us an opportunity to arm ourselves. Don't forget that you're not the only one with a grudge against Aizen, Ichigo. I have plenty of reasons to go after the man myself."

The wrath faded from his eyes, changing the deep topaz to a familiar honey color, and she could read the remorse in them. Reaching up, he pulled her hand from his face and held it lightly in his hand. He studied it a moment before clasping it in both of his, giving it a gentle squeeze. She could feel the resignation, the sorrow, the desire to be done with it all in that one gesture, and she wanted nothing more than to free him from them all. There was nothing more she wanted at that moment, then to release him from his burdens and send him to his sisters. But he wouldn't go. He would remain by her side until it was all finished, even if it took decades.

"I'm going to go get some sleep." His voice was rough, shredded from his shouting and exhaustion. Offering him a small smile as he released her hand, she watched him head back inside.

If he hadn't been so upset, he might have caught a whiff of a familiar scent. She was glad he hadn't. He'd suffered enough for one night. There was no need to make him deal with his current rival.

Turning, she spotted him sitting on the ledge, one leg dangling over the edge. Judging by the dark look in his eyes, he'd seen enough to make him unhappy. Which particular subject he was displeased about, she didn't know, but it wouldn't get any better the longer she waited.

"Ashido," she greeted him casually. "I'm surprised it took you this long to get back."

Tilting his head like a curious cat, she could see him debating on how to reply. She decided to help him along.

"Don't bother pretending like you weren't following us. I know it's been awhile since I've worked with you, but you don't really think me so naive as to believe otherwise?"

Stealth was Ashido's speciality. If he wanted to, he could completely mask his presence, making it nearly impossible for others to detect him. Knowing him as she did, even she wouldn't have known he was there. Starrk's people, as skilled as they were, would have had difficulty finding him as well.

His lips twisted into a bemused smirk. "I should have known better. Are you going to tell me what you discussed?"

Quirking an eyebrow, she couldn't help but be amused. "Couldn't get close enough to eavesdrop?"

"Not without alerting the others," he admitted. "A couple of times I thought that nasty looking guy with the blue hair picked up on me."

"You're slipping in your old age," she mocked, pleased it came out somewhat naturally.

He narrowed his eyes at the insult. "I'm only 60 years older than you."

"That old? And still a full head of hair!"

The mild look of aggravation that settled on his features nearly had her laughing, but she managed to suppress it into a controlled smirk.

"Don't think you can distract me, Kuchiki," he growled in his frustration, raking his fingers through his hair subconsciously.

"A good amount of the conversation was private, _but_ ," she stressed the last word as he began to argue, "I'll tell you what is relevant to your mission."

He didn't look happy with that news, but didn't argue. "Fine then."

"When it comes to Aizen, he doesn't know if he's truly immortal."

"Bullshit."

Rukia huffed. She was getting rather tired of everyone calling what she said into question. "There's no reason for him to lie to me. He simply doesn't have the answer."

"Oh don't hand me that shit, Rukia," Ashido bit back. "He's been alive for how long? You can't honestly believe he hasn't tried to figure out the limits of his own mortality. He knows the truth, and I'm willing to bet it's that there is a way. He just doesn't want to tell you because he's protecting himself."

She thought to argue with him, thought to tell him why Starrk wouldn't feel the need to lie to her, but there was no point to it. In the end, the situation hadn't changed. They still didn't know for sure whether Aizen was truly immortal or just extremely difficult to kill. They still needed to stop him and put an end to his escapades.

"Fine," she said with a sigh, her body finally feeling the weight of the day. "Believe what you want to, but you need to be prepared for both options."

He looked almost disappointed, as if he'd been expecting a fight, but she had no desire for it. All she wanted was her bed. Her hand was on the handle when Ashido called out to her.

"I suppose if worse comes to worse, we can try throwing the bastard into an active volcano. If he is immortal, I'd like to see him try to recover from that."

"Just remember to send me tickets to the show," she remarked with a smile, and then headed inside.

* * *

 **Author's Note:** I know a few of you weren't thrilled with the last chapter, but did we like this chapter a bit better? It had Starrk and Grimmjow - that counts for something, right? I know it was another chapter with a lot of talking and not a whole lot of action (unless you count verbal sparring), but I promisepromisepromise, things are about to get a lot more interesting and a lot more serious. That thing you've been waiting for all this time - it's coming.

Thanks to those who favorited and followed! And a special thanks to those who left reviews: **yocel** , **MugetsuIchigo** (and their advice on linking), **NieveDrop** (whom I continue to stalk - musically now as well), **IchiRuki** , and the **anonymous guest**! Please R &R. Even if you hated the chapter, I love hearing your thoughts and how I can make things better in the future.


	13. Chapter Twelve

**Author's Soundtrack:  
** Human by Aquilo

* * *

 **Chapter Twelve**

* * *

Ichigo zipped up his duffle and was more than happy to abandon the fancy hotel room. The bed was too soft and the room soaked heavily in an antique fragrance that made his nose itch. The hall wasn't much better, but he put up with it while he waited for Rukia to join him. Guilt nagged at him, gnawing like a rat for his behavior last night, and he expected her to be angry or dismissive for his attitude. But, when she opened the door, she greeted him with her usual steady gaze and minuscule smile. He still wanted to pressure Starrk for information, but he couldn't ignore the points she'd made. For now, he would follow her lead and hope they eventually got the answers to his questions.

"What are we going to do about Ashido?" Ichigo asked as they made their way towards the elevator. "He's not going to just let us disappear on him, not after he thinks you were both rejected."

"Ashido is fully aware we met with Starrk last night."

He wasn't sure if he was pissed or shocked. Did she tell him? And when? And why hadn't he been included in the conversation?

Unwanted thoughts overwhelmed him and he quickly tried to put them from his mind, reminding himself of Rukia's words. She wasn't interested in continuing that kind of relationship with Ashido. The past was the past and she had other things to focus on. And yet, the damnable images wouldn't leave him be. He was beginning to wonder if it was the beast who was responsible. It had been blissfully silent for so long, perhaps this was a new form of torture it had devised.

"He followed us last night," she said, cutting through his thoughts with a sharp glare as if she could read his thoughts. "I gave him Starrk's answer."

"I'm sure he _loved_ that."

Rukia smirked and he felt the weight of her rebuke and his insecurities lessen. "I suppose you could call it that. For obvious reasons, he wasn't pleased, and has decided Starrk's answer - or lack thereof - suffices. He's convinced Starrk is hiding the secret to killing a true immortal and plans on having the Japanese Council move forward with that."

"So what does that mean?" Ichigo asked, glad no other guests joined them as they stepped into the elevator and headed to the lobby.

"What Ashido does is up to him. At this point, we are going our separate ways. I spoke with Shinji last night and informed him of our conversation with Starrk. He wholeheartedly backs our decision to train, and has graciously offered to take on the FCA and Japanese Chancellors."

"Define 'graciously'?" Ichigo snorted, failing to imagine Shinji doing anything "graciously". Rukia smiled but didn't clarify.

"We will still need to file the appropriate paperwork with the FCA. Since we're no longer working in a joint effort to meet with Starrk, our stay has to become a bit more official." The elevator doors opened and she continued. "I scheduled an appointment with an FCA official at the agency. . ."

Rukia slowed as they rounded the corner and caught sight of Agent Inoue - Orihime, she insisted he call her - and a few of her agents standing idly in the lobby. When the woman spotted them, she grinned and hurried over.

"Councilor Kuchiki. Agent Ichigo."

"Agent Inoue," Rukia replied cautiously, "Didn't you get my message?"

"I did," she replied, her smile wide, "but we were nearly here, so I figured I'd offer our services to escort you to the Agency."

Rukia relaxed, though it was only a little. Did she think the agent was trying to gain access to Starrk through her?

"I appreciate the gesture, but I don't want to distract you from your regular duties. I know acting as an escort must be considerably tame compared to your usual work."

"I would be lying if I said 'no'," she winked and Rukia looked uncomfortable, "but considering this was supposed to last for another few days, I figure I owe you for ending things early. Besides, I need to make a stop there anyway."

With a sweeping gesture, Orihime showed them towards the main doors. Rukia didn't seem too put out. The thought of paying a cabbie on their renewed shoe-string budget was more than enough to keep her from rejecting Orihime's offer any further. Outside, a large black SUV was waiting for them. Ichigo had come to associate the massive vehicles with Americans. The British Council had its own fleet of cars, but they were nowhere near the size of these monstrosities. Even in the heavy traffic New York City experienced, the FCA and everyone else seemed to drive large cars. Why, he couldn't quite figure out.

As they pulled up to the building, Ichigo stared up at it through his window. The Federal Council Agency building was a shining tower, looming over them like a shimmering glass giant flaunting its wealth. An expansive courtyard stretched from the large glass entrance to the edge of a partial wall that lined the perimeter of the property. A square fountain offered a small oasis in the midst of bustling city life. He could already hear Shinji's envious whines and was tempted to take a few mocking pictures to send to him.

Inside, the building was just as extravagant as the exterior. Where the British consulate boasted a more classic and traditional style of architecture - despite Shinji's attempts - the Agency offered smooth and sleek designs of the modern age. Instead of marble and rich accents of handcrafted wood, there was slick metal and bursts of bright colors. Ichigo couldn't help himself and took a couple of pictures. Rukia gave him a questioning look, but he ignored her in case she tried to stop him.

"Kevin here will get you where you need to go." Orihime proffered a young assistant with wide green eyes and bright cheeks. His eyes darted between Ichigo and Rukia as if he was seeing a set of rare and exotic animals. "Try not to talk their ears off, all right Kevin?"

The assistant nodded excitedly, the collection of hair on the top of his head bobbing almost hypnotically. Ichigo had never seen anyone wear their hair with it so short on the sides but long on the top. It was an odd style he wasn't sure he liked, especially when it was so distracting.

"If I don't see you again, it was a pleasure to meet you both, and I hope you enjoy the rest of your stay." With a smile to Rukia, and a quick wink to Ichigo, Orihime dismissed herself and hurried off through a door on the other side of the lobby.

"Looks like she's in a hurry," Ichigo commented as Kevin lead them to an elevator. The assistant clamped his mouth shut by biting his lips together in an attempt to keep himself from responding. The sight was fairly comical, and he couldn't help but smirk as he looked to Rukia. "You mentioned her regular job?"

"I suppose I shouldn't be surprised you didn't notice," Rukia remarked as they stepped into an elevator. She rolled her eyes when he glowered at her. "Oh please, don't be so sensitive. You're still fairly young, so it makes sense that you might not have caught it. The way she disappears from notice when she wants to, watches with keen eyes, moves with precision and purpose - she's a hunter. From what I can tell, a fairly good one. I wouldn't rank her with Ashido, but I would have been happy to have her on my own team."

She was right. He hadn't noticed. Given Orihime's happy disposition and knack for negotiating conversations with foreigners, he figured escorting was her normal job. With such an easy smile, he had a difficult time believing she could do all the things Rukia and her hunters had done - what he had done.

"Chances are, she was in the middle of a case when she got dragged into escorting us. She was always on her phone - reading or speaking with someone." Rukia continued. He shouldn't have been surprised by how much Rukia put together, but he was.

"You're absolutely right, Councilor Kuchiki!" It appeared they had triggered Kevin, Rukia's observations blowing apart his restraint. "Agent Inoue was working on a high profile case before your arrival. Director Ginjou pulled her off the case himself. He wanted to make sure you had the best in terms of security. Agent Inoue started her career in the medical field, but she proved to be a very proficient hunter as well."

Ichigo grinned as Rukia pursued her lips. The assistant caught his mistake and quickly tried to backpedal.

"N-Not to say that you can't protect yourself, Councilor. The Director just wanted to make sure you and the Japanese agents had the best of everything available to you."

His recovery didn't seem to ease her discontent, but she nodded to assure the poor guy he wasn't in any trouble with her. Deciding to give the kid a break, Ichigo shifted the conversation.

"What was she working on?"

Rukia shot him a disapproving look - probably because it wasn't appropriate to dig into other councils' business. He ignored her as the assistant seemed to get ramped up all over again. He almost reminded Ichigo of a fanboy meeting someone finally interested in hearing about his obsession.

"A rogue vampire has been terrorizing the city, killing and butchering women on the street, and managing to elude capture at every turn.

"They were at a loss as to what to do. They had no picture, no witnesses, no clues about who he was or how he hunted. All they could do was follow the trail of dead bodies. There were concerns he might get bored and slip through their grasp, disappearing entirely. But then," he paused dramatically, his grin widening in excitement, "Agent Inoue found a witness who saw his face. She convinced him to come in and give a description to an artist. That was just the other day. Since then, they've discovered his preferred hunting grounds and should have him taken care of before morning."

Ichigo tried not to gawk at the kid, impressed he was able to breathe after sharing the story in one go. Clearly, he'd been wanting to talk to someone about the good work of the FCA hunters for a while. The story itself sounded familiar to their case with Nnoitra. Rukia hadn't been kidding that this was a situation most councils dealt with, even without Aizen's involvement.

"Would this be the 'New York Dracula' case?" Rukia asked, sounding more intrigued than Ichigo expected her to be.

"Yes!" Kevin exclaimed. "Have you been following the story as well?"

"Only what's been in the papers since our arrival," she told him. He didn't look disappointed. "I'm glad to hear they've made progress."

"I wish I could go on the hunt tonight. I mean, I'm nowhere near qualified enough to be a hunter, but it would be a great opportunity to watch the teams work. I supposed I could sneak into the club, but we've all been sworn off the area. It's such a shame because it's all going down at Sinister!"

"Sinister?" Rukia glanced at Ichigo, who gave her a clueless shrug. Why she thought he would know about some place in New York was beyond him. He didn't even know the names of clubs in London.

"It's one of _the_ premier nightclubs in the city. Rooftop raves, amazing music, drugs, sex, and hot tubs - it's very hip." Rukia gave Kevin a look of condemnation, but he barreled on. "Supposedly, it's the only place he hunts. He finds his quarries there and then follows them until they're alone. Then, using his good looks, he seduces them until their guard is down and then kills them."

Kevin paused and studied Ichigo. "Now that I think about it, the sketch the witness gave kind of looks like your guard here. A bit older, maybe mid to late 30s, black hair instead of orange, and these brilliant blue eyes that he uses to hypnotize his victims."

That didn't sound anything like him and he gave the assistant a wary look.

"Seriously! Hold on."

Kevin pulled out his phone and began searching through it. Ichigo was about to tell him not to bother, but he exclaimed and held a picture up to his face. It was a detailed sketch of a man, his hair shaded to indicate the dark color. Ichigo wouldn't have described them as looking identical, but he had to admit there was a certain resemblance.

"The Agency sent out the picture to everyone when they first got it." Kevin turned the phone to Rukia. The color drained from her face. Something similar to shock and heartbreak etched her features. Moisture gathered in the corners of her eyes and he wondered if she might cry. Concern wrapped around his heart and squeezed tightly until he couldn't breathe.

Kevin didn't notice, having put his phone away and started rambling about the case as the elevator chimed and the doors opened. Blinking, Rukia raised her eyes to his face. What Ichigo saw there caused his heart to seize. The love and passion dancing in the pools of deep violet dragged him into their depths and nearly drowned him. He was suffocating in an emotion he'd never felt in his life. It was terrible and wonderful all at once, and he didn't know what to do with it.

And then her gaze solidified to stone as she recovered from whatever it was she had seen, but the feeling that filled his lungs remained.

"This way," Kevin called out to them, standing in the lobby and waiting patiently with a friendly smile.

"Sorry," she replied, taking a deep and shaky breath. Stepping out of the elevator she followed Kevin to an official's office with Ichigo right behind her.

Whatever it was about that picture, it knocked her off her balance, took hold of her, and left her raw. And it hadn't left him unmarked. It infected him and spread through him, leaving him reeling. It was powerful, and it was personal, and he prayed she would confide in him.

First, they had to get through this meeting.

The official was a paper-pusher, filling out forms and asking them procedural questions. He droned on and on, reciting laws and regulations until he was satisfied they could step out the door without breaking some sort of rule. There were a series of questions Rukia answered with vague certainty. None of her replies were lies. All of them were carefully modified truths. After signing multiple agreements, each resulting in physical enforcement if they should be broken, the official released them back into Kevin's custody.

Much to Kevin's disappointment, Rukia wasn't interested in discussing other cases. Occasionally, she gave him a slight nod or half smile, sometimes a thoughtful hum. At first, he thought her depressed and lost in thought, but she was thinking. He could see the gears working, turning, and he wondered what she was up to so suddenly.

Once they were outside and away from the building, Ichigo turned to her. "Care to share?"

She gazed up at him and stared blankly for a moment as she readjusted from working things out in her mind to communicating. "Sorry, it's nothing," she replied with a stern shake of her head, as if trying to rid herself of her thoughts. "Just something stupid."

He might have thought she was trying to dodge his questions, keep things to herself again, but she genuinely looked liked she was trying to dismiss whatever it was that was running through her mind.

"How would you like to go on a stakeout tonight?" She asked suddenly.

"I'm up for it, I suppose," he began hesitantly, "but I thought we needed to meet up with Starrk?"

She frowned and considered her options. "We have time. This shouldn't take more than a day. I'll call Nelliel and let her know. There's something I want to look into before training. If I don't, I won't be able to concentrate."

"Something or someone?" She'd been acting off since that assistant mentioned the rogue. Something about the case had her wound up, and he wanted to know before committing. They weren't going to be playing this game anymore.

She watched him, studying him, as if gauging him. He wasn't sure what she was trying to figure out, but he was hoping she would decide soon. Every moment that passed he found his patience slipping from his grasp.

Finally, she caved.

"The picture of the rogue reminds me of someone I knew a long time ago. Someone I thought - I _know_ \- is dead."

"Just because the appearances are similar doesn't mean it's them. Hell, the guy said he looked liked me. The world is full of people. There are bound to be look-alikes - doppelgangers, I think is what they're called."

"I imagine that's the case. It would have to be." She offered a small, cryptic smile that was tinged with a hint of grief. Then it was gone. Stepping up to the curb, she hailed a taxi. One skidded to a stop in front of her and flicked its sign off. Opening the door, she slipped into the back. Ichigo climbed in beside her.

"Club Sinister," Rukia directed the driver. The man gave her a confused look through his rearview mirror.

"It's 2 p.m., lady. Doors won't be open for another eight hours."

"I know," she stated flatly. With a shrug, the driver pulled into traffic. Squealing tires and a wailing horn blasted behind them. The driver flipped his middle finger out the open window and continued on his way.

"This dead friend," Ichigo started, slipping into Japanese and clinging to the handle as the driver took a hard right, "you plan on meeting up with him?"

"No. I just need to see his face." Her voice was quiet, difficult to hear over the whirring of the car engine, the wind as it passed through the window, and blaring car horns. The mournful tone was like a stab to his heart.

Who was this guy? Rukia was almost always composed, a constant professional in nearly all situations. And when she wasn't being professional, she was railing and raving angrily. What he was seeing something entirely different. There were only a handful of times he'd seen her look so vulnerable. Whoever this person was, just thinking about him had an effect on her.

There was little he knew about her actual history. Besides her husband, Ichigo hadn't thought about any other relationships she might have had - until Ashido appeared. Was this look alike another lover or was he the one man she made sure to avoid discussing?

If the sketch of the rogue matched her husband, it would certainly explain her distant and slightly rash behavior. Whenever it came to him, the man still had sway over her, even after a century.

And the fact that they were similar? Something dark and heavy seeped into his bones, a frost that chilled every part of him. Did she see the connection? Did she mistake him for that man? When she looked at him with those eyes, was she looking at the ghost of a man she loved? When she touched him, did she imagine she was touching _him_?

The cold had solidified into a hard weight in the pit of his stomach with every thought, every memory. He couldn't be sick. He couldn't be mad. There was no feeling, not in his limbs and not in his heart.

"What are you planning?" His voice was as frigid as he felt. He closed his eyes and tried to put all his focus on the moment. Now wasn't the time to sit and stew about every moment and interaction, wondering if there was another reason behind them.

"I want to check the area surrounding the club. We need to determine if there's a place where we can get a good view of it without being under foot. If the FCA catches us, they won't hesitate to put us on a plane."

"Shinji won't hesitate to rake us over the coals either," Ichigo offered her, his tone not thawing much. If she noticed, she didn't mention it. He wasn't sure if he was grateful or pissed.

"No he won't."

"If we get caught and sent home, you can't train with Starrk," he reminded her, finding it irritating she would forget the one reason they were staying in New York, the one person who was still her family, the one person who could tell them where Aizen was.

"Which is why we won't get caught."

She was determined, willing to risk losing the only opportunity to learn how to control her powers, all for a damned dead guy. The jealousy Ichigo felt for Ashido couldn't compare to what he felt for this man.

Is this how Ashido felt when they were together? Helpless and constantly trying to stay ahead of a memory? Ichigo wasn't in the mood to ask any more questions and only hoped that what she found was nothing.

There were several hotels in the area surrounding the club. Rukia settled on one directly across the street. It took a bit of haggling and extra money she hated to part with, but they managed to get a room that overlooked the club's rooftop. The single room couldn't hold a candle to the Ritz, but it wasn't anything to scoff at either. He'd certainly seen his fair share of grungy hotel rooms and this one wasn't bad. Clean, decent decor, a flat screen TV that actually worked, and no bed bugs.

When they got to the room, Rukia called Nelliel and informed her they would be ready in a day or two. Ichigo hoped the other woman would have pressured Rukia into abandoning this mission, but there was no such luck. Nelliel was fine, and after they hung up, Rukia glued herself to the window. He watched her with mixed feelings of frustration and concern. In the end, did he have any right to stop her? Maybe this wasn't her husband, but even if it was, who was he to stop them from meeting, to stand in between them?

While she watched, Ichigo decided to get them some dinner and blood. He was hungry, and it would give him some time to figure things out. The FCA provided a list of facilities that supplied blood. He picked up a few bags and some Chinese. When he opened the door, she was still standing in the same spot.

"Rukia, we have a few more hours before the club even opens its doors. Come eat."

Barely sparing him a glance, she shook her head. Annoyance flared, but he quickly doused it and decided to use his backup plan.

"I got you some bunny shaped peeps." They were all sugar and hardly anything substantial, but he hoped if he could pull her away from the window, she would be more inclined to eat something else.

At this, she turned, giving him a doubtful look. "They're not in season."

"Well, neither are those plastic lawn Santa's, but there was a store selling them anyway."

Placing the bags of supplies on the bed, he watched with relief and an amused smile as she slowly stepped away from the window. Snatching the small box of pink colored treats, she quickly ripped into it and popped one in her mouth. His own teeth ached at the thought of eating something so sweet, but it was worth it to see her smile, even for only a few moments.

"The FCA agents are already getting into place." Taking a bite of another peep, she pointed to a few different locations out the window. Ichigo peered out the glass and searched for the agents. As expected, they were difficult to spot. A shadow here, a crop of hair there. If he hadn't known where to look, he might not have seen them at all. "They'll be hacking into the security feeds and watching all points of entry."

"Sounds familiar."

"It should. They're the same tactics we used to hunt Nnoitra." She stood beside him, sucking the sugar from the tips of her fingers. Something twisted in his gut and he shifted uncomfortably, returning his gaze to the agents. "They'll have a human agent in place and teams set up to take the rogue down when they draw him away from the crowds. They'll want as few casualties as possible."

"Just like with Nnoitra."

"Hopefully they won't have as much trouble as we did. Nnoitra was connected with Aizen and we wanted to take him alive for questioning. Taking live prisoners is always more difficult than killing them outright. This rogue. . ." her voice stalled in her throat, but she cleared it and continued. "They have no reason to keep this rogue alive. They'll kill him as soon as they have a chance."

Ichigo watched her, noticing her grim expression as she continued to survey the building. Maybe she was showing some restraint. She knew the FCA was going to kill this man who clearly meant something to her, and she wasn't planning on intervening.

"They won't take him in for questioning?" He asked in part curiosity, but mostly because he didn't want her slipping back into her silence. It was better when she was talking to him.

"Not likely. As far as I can tell, they have no interest in interrogating him. He's proven he's too much of a liability. His actions have put the rest of us as risk, and it won't be tolerated."

She turned away from the window and settled on the bed.

"Going to try and get some sleep?"

Burying her face in a pillow, she huffed. "'Try' being the key word. I doubt he'll make his appearance before the club opens, and it might be even longer if he wants to hunt with more options. I'd rather not wear myself out."

Within a few minutes, her breathing slowed into the steady rhythm of sleep. Briefly, he considered lying down beside her, but the threat of sleep - and the potential of being maimed - were high. He rather liked keeping his head, especially since it had become less crowded.

Why the beast had suddenly stopped hounding him, beating on the walls incessantly whenever it yearned for something, he didn't know and he wasn't sure he cared. The thing was gone and he could finally enjoy the quiet. And yet, at this moment, it felt oddly lonely. Since the beginning, it had been there, been a part of him, lurking in the recesses until baring its fangs a few months after his change. If he had to choose, though, he preferred the quiet.

The doors of Sinister opened at 10 on the dot. A red velvet rope acted as a guide for patrons slowly trickling in. Most were women, dressed in painfully high heels and barely there dresses. One of them was an FCA agent, prepared to risk her life for the safety of those around her. Every one of them was valuable, but if he knew which one was the bait, he would train in on her and worry only about her. It was best he didn't know. If she remained a mysterious figure, he could concentrate on the real target.

Things picked up around 11. More women, and some men, filed into the club. The line now filled the velvet rope and trailed around the block. Strobe lights flashed and lit up the rooftop as a DJ worked his table, amping up the dancers on the floor. Others laughed and entwined themselves around others in the hot tubs. Somewhere in there was the man Rukia was looking for, but even with his vampire eyes, making out faces was fairly difficult from this distance, especially with the constantly changing color and intensity of the lights.

"See anything yet?"

"A lot more bare chests than I would have expected." He smirked when Rukia rolled her eyes and shook her head in disapproval.

"What happened to propriety and sense of intrigue?" Sighing heavily, she got up from the bed and leaned on the wall.

"Pretty sure those died with the invention of the television and Playboy."

She gave him a pointed stare before looking back at the club. Then she stood with a frustrated sigh and made her way to the door. "I need some air. I'll be back in a few minutes. Call me if you see anything or the agents start moving."

"Rukia-"

The door was closed before he could stop her. She was being reckless. If the FCA agents spotted her, they would have some serious explaining to do and she wouldn't get a chance to see the rogue - all so she could get a breather.

Unless she'd already spotted him and was going to get a closer look.

Combing his hand through his hair in exasperation, he cursed and followed after her. Like hell he was going to let her risk everything for this man.

The hallway was empty, but the trail of her faint floral scent on the air was easy enough to track. It led him to the elevator. She could have gone to roof, but since most of the FCA agents were stationed on rooftops, it would be unlikely. She might not have been thinking straight, but she wasn't an idiot. From the main floor, she could access side alleys and avoid having her scent detected as she watched the people going into the club - or get that fresh air she'd mentioned.

The lobby was filled with guests coming back from late night dinners and dates. A few were clearly there for other reasons. Ichigo turned from the main entrance and followed Rukia's scent through the kitchens and out the back. She was standing at the edge of the alley when he exited the building.

"Rukia!"

She turned, frowning as he hurried towards her. "What are you doing here? You're supposed to be keeping an eye on the club."

"What's the point if you're just going to try and meet up with him?"

Opening her mouth to argue, she quickly shut it again, her eyes darting away in avoidance. He'd expected her to look a little guilty for hiding her intentions from him, but the way it twisted her features made him wonder if she had planned on doing more than just trying to catch sight of the rogue.

"You can't speak with him," he told her. "I know he might resemble your husband, but you can't risk it."

For a moment her eyes went wide with surprise, and he knew he was right. She thought to argue, started to, but then stopped. Those piercing amethyst eyes locked onto his and the pain he saw there was enough to knock him off his feet. She loved this man so much she considered throwing away everything for someone who resembled him.

In some way, Ichigo thought he could understand her struggle, but when he really thought about it, he couldn't. Why couldn't she leave this alone? She'd said herself she knew her husband was dead, so what was the point? Did she think this rogue was him reincarnated? Did she think they could have that kind of relationship again when he was a complete stranger? Wasn't _he_ enough?

Silently, he berated himself. This wasn't the time to feel selfish and act childishly. One of them needed to think with their head, and it wasn't going to be Rukia. He needed to get her back inside before one of the agents caught sight of them.

"Come on, let's go back to the room." When they got back, he was going to shut the curtains - shut away the world until morning. By then, the rogue would be dead and the FCA gone, and they could meet up with Starrk.

"Where's the fun in that?"

The two of them turned to see a darkened figure heading down a side alley, sauntering towards them. Sniffing the air, Ichigo tried to pick up a scent, but the wind was dead and the smell of dumpsters full of the day's trash too pungent. Ichigo moved Rukia behind him, and then his vision was filled with bright blue. A series of sharps blades punctured his abdomen just below his ribs, and he felt another slide across his throat. The combined power behind the strikes was enough to throw him back. He struck a brick wall, forcing the air from his struggling lungs, and dropped to the ground. Ichigo struggled to get to his feet.

The man now stood beside Rukia and Ichigo recognized him from the picture of the rogue. He smiled down at her as his hand stroked her cheek tenderly. Rukia's eyes were full of emotion, tears streaking her cheeks.

"Rukia. . ." Ichigo's voice burned in his throat and her name barely escaped his lips. His shirt was soaked with blood and he was confident a few of his lower ribs were shattered. Reaching up to his throat, he tried to stop the flow of blood as it seeped from the wound. He couldn't afford to lose anymore, especially if Rukia wasn't moving.

But then she blinked and stepped away from the man. A growl rumbled in his chest as the man reached for her, but she batted his hand away. He grinned.

"Who'd have thought. I came here to get a snack, have a little fun, and I run into you. It's been - what? Nearly a hundred years? You should be greeting me with a hug and kiss." The rogue chuckled and took a step forward. Ichigo cursed as his vision blurred and he saw two of him. He wasn't sure which one to aim for, so he targeted the one on the left. When his first hit nothing, the rogue laughed and jammed his elbow into Ichigo's face. He stumbled to the ground and shook the spotted lights from his vision.

"You can't fool me," Rukia hissed, now standing between the rogue and Ichigo. "Those eyes of yours are a dead give away."

Ichigo tried to get to his feet, to be there beside her, but his vision tilted and dimmed and his legs gave beneath him. He'd taken much harder hits than this, so why did it feel like he'd been run over with a freight train?

"Ichigo, are you okay?"

"Give him a few minutes and he won't be." The rogue's face was blurred, but Ichigo could still make out the sneer. Rukia glanced back at him, but she didn't move to his side. He was glad for it. This man was clearly dangerous, and the last thing he wanted was for her to give him an opening.

"What did you do?" she demanded.

"I may or may not have injected him with modified venom. Nothing that will kill him, unfortunately, but enough to incapacitate him so we can have a heart-to-heart."

The muscles in Ichigo's arms and legs stiffened, refusing to obey his commands as he tried to get to his feet. He needed to be there, between him and her, and to shut his damn mouth. Whoever this guy was, he clearly wasn't the man Rukia knew to be her husband, which made things much more dangerous.

"Honestly, I didn't think I'd run into you here. I thought we would meet much later. It's thrown a bit of a wrench into my other plans, but I think it'll work out for the best."

Rukia sneered, taking a slow step back towards Ichigo. "Tell me your name and why you look so much like him."

"Come on, love," he cooed, reaching out for her again. She slapped his hand and struck at him with a knife she pulled from her hip. He easily evaded her swipes, chuckling happily as he did so. They danced across the alley, Rukia attacking, the rogue evading. Ichigo tried to call out to her, to keep her close to him, but his mouth wouldn't open. All he could do was watch helplessly as she moved further away from him.

Rukia managed to land a strike on the rogue's face. He laughed and touched the wound gingerly. He was toying with her.

"Bravo, sweetheart. He told me you'd gotten feisty since we parted. Granted, you always had a rebellious streak, but this is another level."

Rukia was in front of Ichigo again, a blur of black that was fading into the shadows of the alley as his vision started to fade. Still, he saw her stiffen. His own heart dropped into his stomach.

"I don't know who 'he' is, and I don't know you. We've never met."

The rogue stopped his slow approach and crossed his arms as he studied her. Ichigo begged for his legs to cooperate, and was pleased when he managed to stand unsteadily on them.

"I suppose your reaction is fairly normal. You did kill me, after all. Left me to be burned."

"Shut _up_!" Her voice tremored with anger and misery.

"I don't blame you. I was out of control. I killed so many, and I. . ." he bit his lower lip and sucked on it as if tasting a delicious piece of food, "I _really_ enjoyed it. To feel their lives slip away beneath my teeth as I drained them - unimaginably thrilling."

"I said shut up!" She lunged at him. He moved, catching her wrist and spinning her about. Back pressed against him, he wrapped an arm around her waist and grabbed her by the throat with his other hand. Ichigo lunged recklessly after him, but tripped and fell. From the ground, he watched helplessly as he dangled Rukia in front of him. Why was he so useless in the moments that were important?

"Say bye bye to your useless sack of bones bodyguard. We're going on a long trip and he isn't invited."

"Bite me, you son of a-"

The rogue's hand twisted and snapped her head to the side in one swift motion. The crack was like an explosion in Ichigo's ears and turned his worsening vision red.

"She never used to speak like that, you know. This new age has certainly done a number on her etiquette." The rogue nuzzled Rukia's neck and then grinned at him. "I kind of like it. Don't you?"

"Let her. . . go!" Ichigo wasn't sure how he managed it, but he got to his feet and close enough to touch the bastard before he was out of reach again. The asshole laughed, tossing Rukia's limp body over his shoulder.

"And what are you going to do if I don't? In another minute you'll be completely blind and paralyzed. I'll be long gone before you even start to recover."

"Who. . .the fuck. . .are you? What. . .do you want. . . with Rukia. . ." Ichigo was on his knees, gasping for air as his body struggled to heal and move. His jaw ached and began to lock up, making it difficult to speak. How was he suppose to stop this guy if he couldn't even say a complete sentence?

"She hasn't told you about me?" The rogue tapped her bottom and shook his head. "Rude. Let me introduce myself. I am Kaien Shiba, Rukia's husband."

"Bullshit," Ichigo spat, longing to cut off that offending hand. Despite his suspicions, Rukia had gotten close to him and didn't believe he was her husband. If there had been any trace of the man she loved, she would have reacted differently. Instead, she'd gone on the defensive. If she didn't believe this man was her husband, then he wouldn't.

Kaien shrugged. "Doesn't really matter if you believe me or not. I've been itching to see her again, but Aizen sent that shit head Nnoitra to keep an eye on her. Idiot fucked up real good though."

Ichigo clenched his jaw. It was a mistake, considering with each passing second every muscle became more difficult to control. "Aizen?"

Kaien grinned. "Normally I wouldn't be willing team up with someone, but he _is_ the one who brought me back. Gave me a couple sweet upgrades to boot."

After everything Ichigo had seen, resurrection shouldn't have been all that surprise, and yet, he found it difficult to believe. Death was permanent, even for vampires. Only three people had ever come back that he knew of, and Kaien had been dead long before then.

A flood of pain coursed through him and Ichigo lost strength in his legs. Even if Aizen had somehow managed to bring Kaien back, what was the point?

"Why?"

"Who the hell knows? That man does whatever the fuck strikes his fancy. Right now, his fancy is to see Rukia. I just got lucky that I was the one to find her."

"Kaien."

A second figure appeared beside Kaien, someone pale and dressed in white with dark hair. Ichigo could barely make out that much as his vision dimmed further. Whoever he was, he wasn't a friend.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" Kaien demanded, sounding irked.

"You've said more than you should. We have the girl. We're finished here."

Then the figure was gone. Kaien snarled at the man's back before starting to leave.

Desperation had Ichigo trying to plead with him. If there was any part of him that was really Rukia's husband, surely he had to feel something for her. "He'll. . . kill her. . ."

"Now, now," he stopped and turned to Ichigo, "don't be so dramatic. You and I both know she can't be killed."

If this man was Rukia's husband, it was only in body. He was twisted, tainted by whatever Aizen had done to him. Would the same thing happen to Rukia if Aizen got his hands on her? Would he brainwash her into becoming some kind of monster that would kill senselessly and with joy? Would she become what she hated most?

 _Get your lazy ass up._

The voice was strange, an echo in his head that sounded like it was speaking through rippling water. How he knew it was the beast, he didn't know. Before, it had only communicated through powerful bursts of emotions and desires. But, of course, when it did finally speak it was in a tone that was snide and arrogant.

 _If you don't beat his ass, I'll take over and do it for you._

Even though it was now capable of speech, the beast was still aggressive, demanding, and controlling. It didn't even wait for him to answer before he felt something take control of his limbs. It pushed him off the ground, his legs wobbling slightly as he stood. His vision was nearly black but for a small gap, like looking through a keyhole with bad vision.

"Just keep this between us. The princess might kick my ass if she found out I broke our deal."

It was strange, hearing the beast speaking with his own voice, using his own lips and body. It was infuriating as well. How could he move so well when Ichigo had so much trouble?

"I'm impressed," Kaien stated. "You shouldn't be able to move, let alone speak. What deal did you make with her?"

"None of your damn business, prick. It's between me, her, and the kid."

Before Ichigo could ask what it meant, he was flying, fist aimed at Kaien's face. He struck air, Kaien leaping back, though barely escaping the blow. Whistling, he hopped playfully from foot to foot.

"Nice. I'm pretty quick on my feet. You shouldn't be able to keep up with me on a normal day, certainly not with that venom in your system. Which, by the way, should be spreading faster now that you're up and moving about."

The shrinking size of the keyhole proved his point. In a few minutes, he would be completely blind. Moving was difficult enough as it was. If the venom was in full effect, there was no way he would be able to catch Kaien, with the beast or without it.

"Won't stop me from ripping your head off."

As everything turned to complete darkness, Ichigo felt his body lunge towards Kaien and swipe at his head. No contact, but the assault from the beast didn't halt. The sounds of footsteps to his left had him turning sharply and striking out. Again and again, he took aim, but the movements were getting sloppy and slow.

"Hey! He's down here!"

A new voice came from somewhere above them and was followed by a stampede of combat boots on rusted metal and pavement.

"Looks like our time is up. I hope you got a good look at Rukia, because you won't be seeing her again."

A howl of fury erupted from Ichigo's throat and the beast tried to follow the sound of Kaien's voice, but his body finally collapsed. Even the beast wasn't able to maintain movement any longer. And as he lay on the cold ground, listening to sounds of the FCA agents rushing into the alley, he knew it was over. They wouldn't be able to catch him. They were gone.

She was gone.

* * *

 **Author's Note:** Told you things were going to get interesting ;).

Thanks to the people who favorited and followed the story, and those who read this story but don't post reviews. I don't think I've thanked you guys, and I want to say that, even if you don't leave a review, I'm still thrilled that you take the time to read this story.

Thanks to those of you who left reviews: **yocel, MugetsuIchigo, NieveDrop, IchiRuki, Haru,** and the **anonymous guests**! Thank you all so much! Please R &R and let me know your thoughts about the chapter!

P.S.

NieveDrop - Remember how I mentioned I didn't think about revealing the similarities to Kaien to Ichigo? Well, apparently I did lol. I completely forgot about this (I'm a terrible author to forget something I wrote lol).


	14. Chapter Thirteen

**Author's Soundtrack:  
** One Way Or Another

* * *

 **Chapter Thirteen**

* * *

Footsteps continued to storm around him like a thundering stampede. There was shouting and orders called for pursuit. Some gave chase, some remained behind, checking the area and confirming it was secure. Voices came over their radios, muffled and distorted with static, making it difficult for him to hear what they were saying, and Ichigo couldn't ask. He couldn't move, couldn't speak, couldn't see. There was nothing to be done, and it was killing him. All he wanted was to give chase, and instead, he was laying in an alley, drowning in his own blood as she was taken further away.

Silently, he begged for the beast to help him. It had managed to utilize his body when he couldn't, maybe it could get through. But it refused to rise to the surface. Somewhere deep inside, it had hidden itself. Faint feelings of remorse and anger pulsed through him, but it only served to piss him off even more. What right did it have to slink off with its tail between its legs? It finally did something useful, and at its defeat it had given up? Where was all that power and ego? Why wasn't it raging to get her back or stomp Kaien down?

Ichigo wanted to scream and kick, fight and claw, but not a single part of him moved. The beast was useless and Kaien gone. He'd outmaneuvered him, outsmarted him, and walked off with her like it was nothing. Red filled the darkness that was his vision, burning with fury - with Kaien, with the beast, with Rukia, but mostly with himself. He'd let this happen. He'd been weak, over-confident, and oblivious to the skill of his enemy. Under Rukia and the Council's guidance, he'd been trained to be a proficient hunter, but he was still young, still a kid. What was one year compared to 100?

Someone was beside him, trying to speak with him, but all he could hear was the roaring sound of his rage.

"Hang in there, Kurosaki. You'll be fine. The blood loss isn't too severe."

The way Orihime declared her observation, like she was forcing a smile, made him wonder if it was the exact opposite. Kaien landed a few good blows, but Ichigo hadn't paid much attention to how bad they were at the time. There was a wound across his throat, he remembered the bite of steel as it ripped at the skin, but his jugular was intact.

The wound in his stomach was probably worse. Kaien had worn a glove of blades and buried it deep into Ichigo's gut, the impact fracturing his ribs. But that was it. It didn't seem like much at first, but now that he was trapped in his own body, he was slowly becoming aware of the extent of the trauma. The blades had done more than puncture his stomach, they'd shredded his intestines, punctured his stomach and liver, and nicked his lungs.

"Cat, where's that bag of blood?" Orihime's voice was firm in her authority. She didn't raise her voice, didn't hesitate, but that only served to convince him he wasn't looking great. But he didn't matter right now. Give him a few days and he would be right as rain, but Rukia. . . If they didn't catch up to her soon, he would lose her.

The painful jab of a needle in his arm indicated she was sticking by him, and it pissed him off.

"Mr. Kurosaki - Ichigo - please answer me."

Fresh blood rushed into his veins, trying to work to heal his wounds, but they stitched together at a snail's pace, resulting in the new blood spilling out into the alley.

Tender fingertips pressed against his neck and stomach, inspecting each injury meticulously - and setting his world ablaze. Each touch was like being doused with oil and set on fire. He tore at the edges of his mind, trying to scream for her to stop, but nothing came out.

Orihime spoke to someone next to her, but their words were muffled by the torrent of excruciating waves.

". . . some sort of paralytic agent," Orihime said thoughtfully, breaking through the noise of his own mind. "I may be able to neutralize it, but I'll need to close the wounds so the blood doesn't drain before it can do its job."

No. He struggled to speak up, to reach out to her and stop her from wasting any more time on him. She needed to stop Kaien. Every second brought her closer to Aizen.

"I think I saw him move."

"Ichigo," Orihime hurriedly called. The palms of her hands pressed lightly to his cheeks, her breath brushing against his face. "Ichigo, can you hear me?"

Yes! For all the good it did him. He could hear, sense, feel. God could he feel. Whatever that bastard used on him, it did nothing to numb the pain like it did his mobility.

"Van's here."

Several pairs of hands lifted him from the ground, careful not to jostle him and distend his wounds. It did little to ease the deluge that tore through him with every step they took. A few yards felt like miles of being dragged behind a horse on a scorching gravel road.

"Set him down," Orihime ordered. The cool metal floor of the van seeped into his back and felt good compared to the flames that licked at him. "Join the others in the hunt. Keep me apprised of any progress you make."

"Yes, ma'am."

The sliding door closed. Another opened and the van dipped as someone climbed inside.

"Get us to the Agency. Quickly, but carefully."

"He looks like shit."

He felt like shit.

"Just drive," Orihime commanded sternly, and began searching for something.

Drawers opened and closed, and glass bottles clinked together. The vehicle lurched, and Ichigo felt a hand keep him from sliding. Whatever route the driver decided to take, Ichigo determined it was the worst choice. Bumps and dips littered the road hitting him like a battering ram, slamming into him with the full force of an army behind it, and the driver decided to hit each one.

"I don't know if you can hear me or not, but I have something that might help, at least until we get to the medical facility at the Agency." The was the only warning he got before Orihime jabbed him in the arm with what felt like a very large needle.

The thought of snapping at her quickly disappeared as the black slowly faded from his vision and he could see bright colors and shapeless blobs. Everything was encased in a strange, cloudy halo, like he was swimming in water. A brown form floated above his head. By the way it moved, swaying with the motion of the van, he assumed it was Orihime. Blinking, he tried to clear his vision, but nothing changed.

"You're blinking. That's good. Can you move anything else?"

Carefully, he tested opening his mouth, ordering his jaw to separate so he could try speaking. The joint at the base of his ear felt like it was being torn in half, like it was rusted shut with misuse. It was nearly unbearable, but he pushed through it, demanding it obey him. It seemed like hours before he finally had his mouth open just a fraction and his head pounded with the effort, threatening to explode.

"That's good." Her hand was on the back of his head lifting it as she pressed the lip of a bottle to his lips. "Try to drink."

The water flooded his mouth and he tried to swallow. The muscles in his throat were just as stubborn as his jaw, but he managed to get a few small sips in before he choked on the rest of it. Tugging on his shoulder, she pulled him onto his side to spit up anything he couldn't get down.

"You alright?" His brow muscles dipped slightly, the best he could do. She chuckled. "Right. Stupid question. Can you speak? I'm not sure how effective the concoction I just whipped up will be. You can move, so that's something."

"Little." If more muscles in his face were working, he would have cringed. The agony of using his vocal chords and raw throat felt like metal teeth scraping against them. The sound that came out of them was unfamiliar, heavy, and scratchy - and quiet, but Orihime seemed to hear him, the sphere shape of her head giving a nod. At least, he thought she nodded.

"Good. We have some time before we get to the Agency and I have a few questions."

It took great effort just to say one word and she suddenly thought he was up for an interrogation? She was certainly an optimist. And why waste time talking to him when she should be out there, helping look for Rukia?

"Rukia?"

She was silent, and he wasn't sure where she was looking, but he imagined it wasn't at him.

"We have agents hunting the rogue and the councilor. They'll let me know of their progress." She dug around in a few more drawers and coming away with something fuzzy and white.

"Why were you two near the club?" Her tone was gentle, patient, but he could hear the underlying hint of displeasure.

Rukia would have been evasive, answering any questions with vague truths that wouldn't compromise their mission or Starrk. Something like: they were staying at the hotel for the night because it happened to be close to where they needed to work. Not a lie, but not the whole truth. Unlike Rukia, he'd never had the patience or energy for those kinds of things, especially now. He preferred the truth, and after tonight, he didn't want to risk doing something that would only make things worse. The FCA wasn't their enemy. In fact, as far as he could tell, they were trying to help him.

It took a few minutes for his mouth to work again.

"Rogue." He winced, his voice cutting into his throat like pieces of shattered glass, but he pushed on. "Rukia might known."

Orihime pressed the bottle of water to his lips again and he took a deep drink, dulling the biting edges that ripped at his throat.

"The Councilor might have known our rogue?" Orihime pieced together. He nodded his head imperceptibly. Leaning forward, she pressed something to his throat. The sting had him growling, and then recoiling from the painful effort of making such a noise. "I'm cleaning and dressing your wounds. They're not healing, and if we leave them exposed they may get infected."

She trimmed something and leaned forward, wrapping gauze around his neck. "Continue."

"Dead," he croaked, managing to cringe from the continued throb in his throat and the excruciating effort to explain the situation in as few words or possible. Orihime's hands stilled in their ministrations.

"Dead?" She paused for a minute, thinking. Ichigo thought to try and clarify, but she continued, sounding doubtful. "So the target was someone she might have known, who should be dead. Your councilor seems like the type to abide rules. I find it difficult to believe she would interfere with our mission because this man reminded her of a dead friend."

A "dead friend" wouldn't have been, but her husband? He was another matter entirely. He was the reason she'd tied herself to her duty to her people and their laws. And this man was Kaien Shiba in every way from what Ichigo could tell. His face, his voice, his memories, they all seemed to be his. Every memory recalled elicited a reaction from Rukia, indicating their truth. When she first saw him, it was clear she was convinced it was him. And yet, in the blink of an eye, she declared him an imposter.

Of course, there was no way he could tell Orihime all that. Even if he was capable, it wasn't his information to share. Hell, Rukia hadn't even shared all of it with him. It didn't feel right to tell a stranger about something so close to Rukia's heart. And knowing all of that wouldn't help him get her back.

For once he would do things Rukia's way, and simply shook his head.

"Not a friend?"

"Tricky."

"Complicated, you mean."

He nodded, pleased she was picking up on his meaning.

"How?"

When he refused to answer, she sighed and moved on to bandaging his torso. He was grateful she didn't press. Either she understood the information wasn't critical or she was giving him the benefit of the doubt.

"So you met up with him and things went sideways."

Again, he shook his head, but he flung it back as van hit a speed bump, his vision going white. She apologized and yelled for the driver to be more careful. It took him a few more minutes before he could grind out the next set of words. The last jolt leaving him gasping for breath. "Staying away. Surprised us."

"He set an ambush?"

Had it been? It seemed too coincidental that he happened to be in that particular alley, but how could he have known they would be there? The decision to look into him was random, their hotel choice random. There was no plan for him to know about. And Kaien himself had said he was surprised to see her.

If he'd just kept her in the room. . .

"Don't know."

She sighed heavily and secured the bandages before leaning back.

"Was their complicated relationship so bad he would go through all this effort just to nab her? Seems a little reckless given how meticulous he's been about avoiding capture up until now. Going after her, taking her, it could have gotten him caught."

She was reducing this to some sort of lover's quarrel. She knew the situation was bad, but she didn't comprehend the gravity of it. None of them could. This wasn't just about a councilor being kidnapped by a rogue they were chasing. This wasn't just a stroke of bad luck. There was someone pulling the strings and they didn't see it. There was only one word that would make her realize just what - who - she was dealing with.

"Aizen."

The van swerved a little, the driver jerking the wheel to right the vehicle again. Orihime was still.

"Say that again."

It hurt like a bitch, but if it got his point across he would do it. He started to respond when she cut him off.

"Sorry. Don't do that. Sam, how close are we?"

"Just around the corner."

By the time the van came to a slow, lurching stop, Ichigo's vision was doing a bit better. He could now discern Orihime's face from her hair and body, but facial expressions were still non-existent. Orihime stood and opened the sliding door. It took a great deal of effort, but Ichigo managed to sit up without assistance. It was exhausting, like bench pressing a baby elephant after getting shot at close range with a salt-loaded shotgun. Orihime grabbed his arm and lifted him out of the van and into a waiting wheelchair. He might have felt emasculated if he wasn't busy seeing double and trying to keep from screaming.

"Painkiller," he ground out roughly.

"No can do. I don't know how that would affect the toxin," she said, wheeling him into the building.

He tried to snap his head to face her, but it looked more like a twitch. She'd had no problem injecting him with some weird concoction she'd made up on the fly to help him speak, but an aspirin was too risky? She looked so sweet with her big eyes and happy smile, but clearly she wasn't above doing what was needed to get the information she wanted. What would have happened if she'd given him something that would have reacted negatively with the poison Kaien dosed him with?

He was now a little more scared of the girl pushing him into a medical room.

A nurse was already inside, dressed in, what he guessed, were scrubs. Orihime instructed him to draw blood. This man wasn't any nicer with a needle than Orihime was, wielding it like a weapon and sticking Ichigo roughly like a pincushion. Why he couldn't have taken it from any number of his wounds was beyond him. He might have asked, but all he wanted to do was pass out. Physically and mentally he was drained. Every part of him hurt, but he didn't want to sleep. He wanted to be awake when everything started working again. As soon as he could move, talk, see, he wanted to be on the move.

His body didn't agree because when he opened his eyes again he was lying on a medical bed, his vision good enough to now make out the room and the equipment in it. He didn't feel like he was on fire, and to top it off, he could move. Turning his head carefully, he spotted Orihime sitting at a small counter, looking through a microscope.

"Whoever concocted this thing is brilliant," she mumbled to herself and jotted down some notes on a pad of paper.

"He's psychopath," Ichigo informed her, figuring it was Aizen behind his pain and suffering. It stung, but he could speak in complete sentences. Touching his throat he gingerly felt along the healing seam. The skin was raised but sealed. After a few days, maybe a week, it would be gone.

Orihime turned on the stool she sat on and smiled. "You're awake."

"And I can see." Sort of. Her features were still a little blurred, but he could make out the different pieces that made up her face.

"And talk."

Sitting up didn't feel great, but it wasn't like getting hit with a train, and that was a plus. New bandages were wrapped around his torso. They were stained with splotches of red, but he'd stopped bleeding out.

"How long was I out?" he asked, his mind still groggy and struggling to string together a series thoughts.

"Not long. An hour maybe. I didn't expect the serum I made to work so quickly."

An hour? His heart slammed against his chest and he panicked. "Have they found him? Found her?"

He'd interrupted her chattering about something - how impressive the blend of the toxin was and how difficult it had been to come up with an antidote or something - but he didn't care. What he cared about was whether or not they'd caught up with Kaien, whether or not they'd gotten to Rukia before he could take her to Aizen.

Her smile morphed into something grave.

"I'm afraid not. A few agents caught sight of him a few miles from where we found you, but he slipped past them. We haven't had a sighting since."

"Take me to where they are." He slid off the bed and nearly face planted on the floor. Orihime caught him by the arm and helped steady him.

"You're in no condition to join them. The wounds the rogue inflicted on you were deep and the toxin he infected you with prevented your body from healing. The serum helped neutralize it, but your body still needs time to heal."

"Give me five minutes and I'll be good."

She huffed impatiently. "I can get you another bag of blood, but that won't make you ready for travel. Leave this to my team for now. Believe me, we're searching for Councilor Kuchiki using every resource available to us. This kind of thing does not reflect well."

"What do you mean?" He asked, fighting the urge to just walk right out of the room and out the front doors.

"We allowed a foreign councilor to be kidnapped in our territory. As our guest, she's our responsibility. It's a sign of weakness that someone can just waltz right in and take what they want. If we don't find her and bring her back it will look even worse." Orihime paused. "I can't even imagine the kinds of hell your Chancellor must be raising."

Shinji would be furious, without a doubt. And now that they'd made a connection with the First and found someone to train Rukia? He would be hounding the FCA for answers and results. If they didn't already feel obligated to search for Rukia, he would torment the FCA until they made it a priority. Shinji flaky, but when they really needed him to come through, he did.

"I have a few things I need to tend to. I'll be back in an hour with an update."

She started to leave, and Ichigo tried to follow. He was off the bed and walking in disjointed, stumbling steps to the door. Orihime stopped.

"You're not staying."

"You thought I would?" He scowled in disbelief. She hung her head in defeat.

"I had hoped. Tell you what, you wait here and rest, and I'll make sure you're personally included in the briefings with the Director. You can see what our teams are doing to find the councilor, and, given your knowledge of Aizen's involvement, maybe you can offer some insight."

As if that would make a difference. It was impossible to know what that man was thinking or conniving. Why he wanted Rukia now, after discarding her already, he had no idea and he didn't want to know. He just wanted her back.

But working with the FCA would get him closer to finding her rather than working on his own, so he would agree to her proposal. He only hoped there was still time.

When Orihime left, Ichigo settled back on the bed, immediately regretting his decision. There was nothing to distract him, so his mind defaulted to running through the kidnapping. He replayed every second, evaluating, criticising, scolding every action and decision. He shouldn't have let her leave. He should have been with her from the beginning. He should have smelled Kaien. He should have seen him. He should have been able to dodge.

Rukia's head snapped to the side and her body went limp.

Ichigo clenched his fists, clamping down on the urge to destroy the room and everything inside it. That image would never leave him.

His phone vibrated and he pulled it out of his pocket. Squinting, he tried to read the characters on the screen. When they failed to become clear, he gave up and answered the phone.

"What?" He snapped impatiently.

" _Where's Rukia? I can't get a hold of her."_

Relief and fear collided into a volatile ball of lava in the pit of his stomach as Ashido's voice came through the speaker. He sounded impatient, not worried, which led Ichigo to believe he didn't know about what happened. If there was anyone who understood how he felt, it would be Ashido. If there was anyone who would pummel him to the ground for his incompetence, it was the same man. And he deserved every strike. And if there was anyone who knew what to do, it would be him.

In the background, he could hear the noise of a crowd. Rukia hadn't known what Ashido was planning to do after getting Starrk's answer. He thought he might have returned directly to Japan, but the crowd didn't sound like it was from an airport, and it was too early for him to be back in Japan. Was he still somewhere close by? If he was, would he be willing to help find her? He loved her, even after all these years. He needed someone else looking for her, someone who cared about her, not her status or their reputation.

"You still in town?"

" _Yeah. We've got some other things to deal with before we go. Why? And why do you sound like you swallowed a gallon of saltwater?"_

"She's gone. Kaien took her"

There was dead silence on the other end, the hum of the crowd filling the heavy void. When Ashido did speak, his voice came out low and rough.

" _I'm going to need you to repeat that."_

"Kaien, or rather, a man who is like Kaien, took her." It didn't occur to him Ashido might not even believe him, but who the hell made that kind of stuff up?

" _And where the hell were you?"_ Ashido's voice was low, a growl mixed with the tense grinding of teeth. Surrounded by people, he was probably struggling to maintain his composure.

"He wiped the floor with me," Ichigo admitted, gripping the edge of the bed and thinking about tearing it to shreds. "The FCA has agents looking for her, but they haven't seen him for over an hour. He wants to take her to Aizen."

" _You're at the Agency now?"_

"Yeah."

" _I'll be there in 20 minutes."_

The line went dead. Dread settled like a weight in the pit of his stomach, but he was grateful Ashido was coming. His jaw wouldn't appreciate it, or his still healing ribs, but he deserved whatever Ashido dished out. He had failed Rukia in every way possible, and now she was about to be Aizen's prisoner.

Son of a bitch!

Seething with self-hatred, Ichigo jumped from the bed and slammed his fists into the wall. The drywall caved, crumbling into bits of fine dust. How could it have all gone so wrong? Maybe if he'd let the beast take over sooner, he might have had a chance to stop Kaien. Maybe it could have saved her.

" _Let's keep this between us. The princess might kick my ass if she found out I broke our deal."_

The heat from his anger cooled, leaving him confused and wondering just what deal it was talking about. If they made a deal, then they'd spoken to one another. If they'd spoken to one another. . . The pieces clicked into place, one after another in rapid succession, and when he had the full picture he was shocked and furious. Now he knew why Rukia had reacted defensively when he'd touched her in the morgue, why she watched him with concern, gauging his moods and actions. The beast had taken over before, and she'd been there when it happened.

A series of questions raced through his mind, leaving him to wonder if there were other incidences he couldn't remember, other deals. And what were the terms? Had she agreed to them willingly or had the beast done something to ensure her cooperation? He tried to think of all the different possibilities, but it only left him with a headache and a bad taste in his mouth.

By the time Orihime appeared in the doorway he was wound tight and glad for the distraction. His mind was leading him to a dark train of thought he didn't want any part of. There were other things that needed his attention right now. He could ask Rukia directly when he got her back.

His vision was perfectly clear now, and he watched her eyes find the damaged wall and make the connection when she saw the dust on his hands. Thankfully, she said nothing and lead him through the halls of the Agency. They were on one of the lower floors and took an elevator to a conference room near the top of the building. Windows lined the halls giving him a clear view of the city outside. It was still dark, but many of the buildings still had their lights on.

The wall of the conference room was made of glass, revealing a number of people already waiting inside. Some were dressed in suits, others in combat gear. At the head of the table was a hulk of a man wearing a smart button down and slacks. It was easy enough to guess that this was the director. Everyone looked to him, spoke to him, and he watched with controlled disinterest.

Everyone looked somber. There were no jokes. No jibes or friendly elements that developed between coworkers. Everyone was tense as they discussed their next steps. Ichigo was glad to see they were taking the matter seriously. He'd worried Rukia was just another name on a page. Her title and connection to Aizen made her a priority.

The blow came from the left, in a dark blur of motion. Ichigo slammed into the conference room wall. The glass should have broken, but it did little more than shiver from the impact. The people in the room were on their feet, some of them rushing out into the hall. The director remained seated, but his eyes narrowed. Ichigo tried to right himself, but hands gripped him by the borrowed shirt he was wearing and flung him into the opposite wall. A window seam dug into his spine as a muscled forearm pressed against his throat. The skin was sore, but felt like a mild itch compared to the burning ache spreading out from his stomach. He could feel the blood seeping into the gauze.

Hands were grabbing at his attacker, but all Ichigo could see was wild gray, hell bent on making him pay. With one push he could crush Ichigo's trachea, one punch he could puncture his abdomen with a new hole, and he would let him. Ichigo wanted him to do it. The pain was a pleasant reprieve to the emotional torrent ripping through him.

Whether it was his silent begging, the combined effort of the soldiers, or the furious Orihime ranting about tearing open still healing wounds, Ashido released his hold on Ichigo, scowling at him in disgust. He tore his shoulders from the men holding him back while Orihime berated him and checked on Ichigo's wound.

"It was his job to keep her safe." The words were barely a whisper, but they were like drums pounding in his ears and pummeling him into the wall.

Orihime tried to argue in his defense, but Ichigo didn't want to hear it. They were all just excuses.

"That's enough, Orihime. I deserve a hell of a lot worse than that."

Judging by the venomous look in Ashido's eyes, the man agreed and wasn't far from continuing given the right push. Another time, perhaps, when Kaien didn't have an hour and a half lead on them.

"Thanks for coming," Ichigo said with honest gratitude, wiping the blood from his lip with his forearm.

"I'm not here for you."

"I know."

Ashido measured him up, his eyes catching on the blood seeping through the slate-colored shirt. Then he turned into the room. The director was still seated at the head of the table, his hands steepled under his chin as he watched all of them file in, seemingly unperturbed by the fight. Orihime and Ichigo stayed towards the back while she tended to his wound.

"Now that that's out of the way," he finally spoke, "let's get this started. I'm Director Ginjou, and I want to know everything you know, kid. Inoue filled me in on what she could, but I want to hear it from you. Who this asshole is, what you were doing there, and what his connection is to Sousuke Aizen."

Unfortunately, there wasn't much to tell them. He gave them honest answers to everything, except Kaien's importance to Rukia. Ashido's narrowed glare had been an unnecessary warning, but it was good to know he'd made the right decision. By the end of what he did share, the director didn't look any happier. He knew there was more to the story, and considered pressing the issue, but he turned his attention towards tracking Kaien and Aizen down.

They reviewed a large map of the city. The lead agent for one of the teams outlined areas where they knew Kaien wasn't, marking them off so they could focus on other, more likely locations. All Ichigo could see was a labyrinth of possibilities. The city was massive with its four burrows and underground network. Kaien could be anywhere. All he had to do was lay low and wait before making his escape.

Kaien's connection to Aizen made him all the more dangerous. If Aizen had a goal, anything would be done to meet it. Kaien would do what was necessary to escape. The damage could limited or it could be off the charts. If they weren't careful, they would be following a trail of carnage.

"There is no point in continuing to search in the city." Nelliel stood in the doorway, her chocolate brown eyes studying everyone in the room. "Kaien Shiba has already left the city."

"Who the hell are you?" Ginjou demanded in an even tone, though clearly displeased with the interruption.

"This is Nelliel, a member of Mr. Starrk's entourage," Ashido offered diplomatically.

"Is that supposed to mean something to me?" Ginjou leveled a glare as Ashido. "Just because he was part of your top secret mission doesn't mean he has a right to get involved now."

Ashido glanced at Ichigo. There was a question in his eyes, wondering how much they revealed. Nelliel wasn't helping, choosing to watch silently as they made their decision. If they exposed Starrk's identity there was no knowing what would happen. Would they shift their focus? Would they be distracted? Rukia couldn't afford to fall to second priority. And how would Starrk feel about them exposing his identity? When they got Rukia back, he might refuse to help her.

"Starrk is a relative of Rukia's." Using one of Rukia's tactics of half truths, Ichigo figured this would save them the trouble of explaining Starrk's involvement. When the director only scoffed and didn't push any further, Ichigo turned to Nelliel. "How do you know they left?"

"Kaien made contact with our plant deep within Aizen's ranks. He informed them he had a present for them and that he was already on a flight to their location."

"Where?" Ashido leaned on the table in an effort to restrain himself from jumping all over Nelliel. "Where's the plane headed?"

"Why didn't you warn us?" Ichigo demanded. They would get the location of the plane, but if Starrk's plant was aware of Aizen's plans, why hadn't they warned them? Starrk was looking out for Rukia, but this was a blatant disregard for her life. It was a betrayal.

"Taking Rukia was not a part of the plan," Nelliel replied, ignoring Ashido. "Our plant was unaware of Aizen's renewed interest in her, only going so far as to watch her."

"Did you know about Kaien?" Ashido seethed.

"We did."

"Then you had to know he was going to use him to take her!" Ashido slammed his fist on the table and stood, his chair crashing against the wall.

Nelliel had been cool, unmoving in all of her responses, but this time, she hesitated. Her mouth opened to respond, but she closed it. Her eyes fell to Ichigo and offered up silent apologies, but it wasn't enough. Ashido was right. Starrk knew about Kaien, about his importance to Rukia, and he'd said nothing, done nothing.

"We had hoped she would be under Mr. Starrk's protection before he was used. Kaien is a newer creation, reckless and motivated by his own desires. Aizen didn't trust him implicitly and even sent another to keep him in line. He wasn't ready for Aizen to use. Him finding Rukia seems to have been pure coincidence."

" _Rukia_ found _him_ ," Ichigo informed her. "We found out he was the rogue the FCA was hunting."

"And how did you find _that_ out?" The growl rumbled through the room like thunder as the director cut into their conversation. His eyes searched the faces of every agent in the room, demanding an answer to a silent question.

"The kid who escorted us through the agency showed us his picture," Ichigo told him. "He said it had been sent to everyone when you first got it."

Orihime groaned. "Kevin."

"Call that little happy-go-lucky shit in. _Now_."

Orihime nodded and was on her phone making the call. All of them could hear the automated message saying the line was no longer in use. The director cursed.

"Care to explain?" Ashido growled, refusing to return to his seat.

"That picture wasn't shared with the whole agency," Orihime offered. "It was only given to agents going on the hunt. Kevin shouldn't have had access to it or any other information regarding the hunt."

"John, get on the line with Director Hossman. Let her know we have a leak and send agents to find Kevin Miller."

A man near the door nodded and hurried out of the room, leaving the others to deal with a fuming director. His turned his scorching gaze on Nelliel, who remained unaffected.

"It appears Aizen is one step ahead of us - again. Why he would go through so much trouble to get his hands on this councilor?"

"Aizen and Rukia have a history," Nelliel offered, "I imagine he wants to tie up loose ends."

Ichigo felt the world drop from beneath him. What the hell did that mean? What would he do to her? She couldn't die, as far as they knew, so what "loose ends" were there to tie up? The look of sorrow Nelliel was giving him wasn't helping any. Desperation took over, and Ichigo took a step closer to Nelliel.

" _Where_ the _hell_ is he taking her?"

"A facility outside of Tucurù."

Someone was typing on their phone, finding the location. "Guatemala?"

"Yes."

How long did it take to get from New York to Guatemala? Kaien would be using a private jet, more than likely ignoring any regulations. Was she already in Aizen's hands? Was she already suffering? Too many times he had seen her hurt, bloodied and wounded, and the images came too easily no matter how he tried to fight against them.

"Mr. Starrk never intended for things to go so far. The capture of Rukia. . ." Again, Nelliel gave him a look of sincere apology, but it felt hollow. How could he forgive her or Starrk when their silence put her at risk? "Mr. Starrk doesn't want to lose any more family. He will offer whatever assistance you need to bring her back."

"Does he have a jet?" Ashido asked.

"Hold your impassioned horses," Ginjou cut in. "Need I remind you two that you are council agents. That means you have to abide by Council law. With the councilor now in Central America you've got a whole other set of problems."

Ashido cursed and Nelliel looked grim. Ichigo scowled, irritated further by stumbling onto another setback. "What do you mean?

"Guatemala is Central American Council territory, meaning we have to go through red tape to get permission to travel there - and none of our councils are on great terms."

"Fuck red tape! The longer we take to get moving, the longer she's Aizen's prison," Ichigo growled.

"Look, kid, I don't like it any more than you do," Ginjou sneered, "but one misstep and you won't be able to get anywhere close to her, big spending sponsor or not. If you get caught by the CAC it won't matter your motivations. At best, they'll think it's a black flag operation and nail you and your councils to the wall."

"Might I make a suggestion," Nelliel offered. Everyone one turned to look at her, annoyance mixed with curiosity in all of their faces. "Perhaps you should try revealing everything to them, bring them in as partners and only send a handful of agents."

"I don't see how that would work out any better for us," Ginjou snarled.

The hint of a smile on her lips set Ichigo's nerves on edge. "You might be surprised. Instead of an enemy, you might find an alley."

The Director narrowed his eyes as if trying to peer into her soul to see the truth of things. And then he gave up, throwing his hands in the air and sighing. "I'm not going to bother asking how you know that, but it seems you've got your hands on some sort of useful intel. I'd certainly like to hear how you got someone on Aizen's team to turn."

"Perhaps another time."

Ginjou snorted and shook his head, turning his gaze to Ichigo. "If we get the CAC to agree, the FCA will provide a plane and five of our own agents. You and whoever else you want to take leave as soon as we have the go-ahead from the CAC."

There was movement. They were going after Rukia and Kaien, but it did little to ease the worry and anxiety clawing at him. How long would it be before they were finally able to get there? How long to get to her? How long would she spend alone with Aizen, suffering under his capture? They needed to move, and quickly.

* * *

 **Author's Note:** Thank you all for reading! I hope you enjoyed this chapter!

A special thanks to those who left reviews: **MugetsuIchigo** , **Haru** , **Negrosabi** , and **IciRuki 4vr**! And a special, special thanks to **NieveDrop** who pointed out some great things that helped me flesh out the story a bit more, and **gin** who left a whole bunch of reviews! Please R&R! I'd love to hear what you all thought of this latest chapter!

 **Edit:** Quick note, I tweaked the last thing Ginjou said, as a reader pointed out it was a little confusing as to who Ginjou was speaking to before. I hope this clears things up a bit.


	15. Chapter Fourteen

**Author's Soundtrack:  
** Aroul (Escape) by Taalbi Brothers

Do you Realize by Ursine Vulpine (at the line break)

* * *

 **Chapter Fourteen**

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Nestled in the foothills of the Sierra de las Minas mountains, a small village hurried to board up its windows, close its doors, and seek refuge from the nightmare that had been terrorizing them for weeks. It only came after sunset, stalking the dirt covered paths like a bloodthirsty demon. Any who were caught outside were whisked away like spirits, their bodies to be found days later, abandoned at the border of the village, mutilated and drained of blood.

At first, the villagers thought it was a jaguar, picking off stragglers who traveled alone along the mountain trail. But when the bodies of the hunting party were scattered along the outskirts of the village they knew they were dealing with something else entirely. The men were strong and experienced. A single jaguar wouldn't have, and couldn't have, killed them all. Now, their small population had been reduced by half, leaving mostly the weak and elderly. What warriors did remain, dared not risk the safety of the village by attempting another hunt, and no one dared brave the long, 2-day journey to seek help from the closest city. They only hoped the monster would grow tired and leave just as quickly as it came.

This night, a young woman risked attack. Her child was sick with fever, and the medicine woman had only just finished preparing the medicinal herbs. She stepped out of the hut and eyed the last rays of the setting sun as it disappeared behind the mountain peaks. A chill ran through her. She could make it if she hurried. Her hut was only a few hundred yards away.

A shutter snapped closed, causing her to jump as it echoed ominously in the empty street.

Patting her chest to steady her hammering heart, she chanted a small prayer. Turning, she ran directly into a tall, unfamiliar man. Though he smiled down at her with moon white teeth and friendly eyes, she knew he was dangerous.

"Tell me, little sparrow, would you care to meet the Devil?" His grin widened and something in her told her to flee, but he took her by the shoulders and held her firmly in place. "If you come with me, you can meet him. One as lovely as yourself, perhaps you will survive the bite of the apple."

"Please," she begged, her voice quivering in fear, "my child-"

"The Devil has no interest in children. He needs adults, healthy ones. You will come," his smile twisted, turning sinister, "willing or not."

Eyes widening in fear, she pulled away and started to run towards her hut. Burly fingers wrapped around her throat and squeezed hard. Gasping for air, she clawed desperately at his hand, her fingernails digging into his flesh and leaving behind raw red marks. Specks of black clouded her vision and she knew her life was forfeit. The bag of medicine fell to the dirt.

When the woman ceased to struggle, he released his hold on her and caught her around the waist as she fell. She wasn't large, and he worried she wouldn't be enough, but she would have to do. There weren't many more choices left, the village nearly depleted of its desirable stock. Another rotation might be necessary. He cringed at the thought, hoisting the woman over his shoulder. Moving was such a pain in the ass.

The sting of a blade at his throat caused him to still. He'd been distracted, but he should have heard an approach. Whoever got the jump on him was certainly skilled. His dark blue eyes followed the threatening glint of silver to the hulking man holding the sword and nearly gawked in surprise. To have missed this giant's approach was laughable, but he wouldn't give the man the satisfaction of knowing he'd shocked him.

"Sado," he greeted in a casual and friendly manner. A cool smile slipping onto his lips. "It's been a while."

"Dordonii. . . put the woman down."

Sado's deep voice rumbled like thunder and might have intimidated a lesser man. Instead, Dordonii pressed his lips into an amused smirk. They'd been friends once; he the charismatic lover who secretly enjoyed their true nature, Sado the silent and intimidating behemoth who had a gentle heart. Sado couldn't kill an old friend, even for the council he'd thrown away everything for.

"Come now, Sado. We both know you don't have it in you to kill an old friend, especially over a simple meal."

The lumbering titan was quiet for a moment. "Depends on your answer."

Dordonii risked slicing his neck as he turned to get a better look at Sado. Dark, curling strands fell in front of the man's eyes, concealing his thoughts and intentions. What was it he wanted to know that put Sado's love of humans on the back burner? It didn't matter. Reading Sado was like reading an encrypted message without the key - pointless.

Under normal circumstances, Dordonii would have fled preferring the danger of running from a hunter over angering his master, but he was truly curious.

"And what is the question?"

"Where is he?"

"Who?" The corner of Sado's lips twitched in irritation, and Dordonii laughed at having riled his old friend.

"The man you betrayed your council for. I want his location."

"Ah, yes, _him_." Dordonii hummed thoughtfully, as if recalling a distant memory, and then he grinned. "Wish I could help you, but I'd rather pick a fight with you over pissing him off. You wouldn't think him to be a moody man, but he's like a woman scorned when people lie and deceive him."

There was a low growl, deep and quivering like the earth before the violent eruption of a volcano. Dordonii managed to suppress his laughter. Sometimes it was too easy to anger the man. His betrayal and new found loyalty seemed an especially touchy subject.

"I can't protect you if you give me nothing."

It was a laughable concept, and Dordonii did little to hide the humor in it. The thought of being protected was ridiculous and ultimately fruitless. One wrong word could equal his death. There was no stopping it. He liked Sado, but he wasn't willing to die for him.

"Guess you'll have to kill me then - if you can catch me."

Dordonii shifted back to avoid the slicing motion of the sword and tossed the woman into the air. The colossal teddy bear that Sado was, he would go for the human and try to keep her from dying. As he reached for her, Dordonii fled. His goal was the dense forest surrounding the village. If Sado managed to catch up it would be a miracle. Sado had his strength, relying on his size and bulk for an advantage in power, but Dordonii had speed. He was lean and light. The thicket of trees would have an effect, but he could still out-maneuver Sado and make his escape.

Yet Sado now stood between him and his freedom, forcing Dordonii to a stumbling halt.

Dordonii visibly gawked. It shouldn't have been possible. Sado was slower, especially when tied down by his sense of duty. Had he, in fact, abandoned the woman to ensure his capture? Glancing back, Dordonii spotted her being pulled into one of the huts. No. Somehow, Sado had managed to get her to safety and still beat him to the forest. It was mind boggling, and frustrating. It was already going to cost him precious minutes luring Sado away from the village so he could double back and claim the woman. His master would be furious if he took any longer.

"What happened to you?" Dordonii stared at Sado with a bored sneer at the typical question.

"Are we really going to do this song and dance again?" He sighed, shaking his head at how hopeless his old friend truly was. Even after all these years he still held out hope for him. It was sweet and equally pathetic. "I was tired of being the Council's bitch, tired of pretending to be something I'm not."

Sado was quiet, considering his words, frowning in his failed attempt to understand a simple concept like greed and selfishness. "What about fighting for our people?"

Dordonii groaned, hanging his head in dramatic exhaustion. " _Please_. That's _your_ whole schtick. I've never been interested in what's good for our people, just what's good for me. All I ever wanted to do was get drunk, screw some gorgeous women, and fight. All the Council wanted me to do was be a good little soldier and do what they told me to do without question. What the hell kind of life is that? It's bullshit. And now that I've finally found someone who lets me do whatever the fuck I want and you want me to feel bad? Screw that."

"You've changed."

There it was. That look of mournful disappointment. It used to hold some sort of sway over him, momentarily convincing him to try to be someone better, someone who could meet Sado's expectations, someone worthy of being called "friend". But not anymore. His new life wasn't as free as he would have Sado believe, but it was a hell of a lot better than being under the Council's thumb all his life - unless he didn't get back with the meal. Too much longer and Aizen would send that ghoulish pet of his to come fetch him, and he had no interest in dealing with that freak.

"No, Sado, you just never knew me."

Dordonii rushed him.

As expected, Sado swung, large and wide, exposing his left side. Dordonii feinted and aimed for the opening. The wound wouldn't kill him, but it might buy him time to fetch the women and escape. Sado shifted, twisting and avoiding the piercing jab of his sword while continuing his momentum and bringing his weapon hurtling towards Dordonii's head. Digging his heels into the soft earth, Dordonii managed to halt his movements enough to avoid the deadly blow as Sado's sword buried itself in the ground. Dordonii grinned, using a small gap he spotted in Sado's defenses, and struck.

But the sliding of metal on metal and the shiver of his blade, cooled his jubilation and gave him pause. He was quick to put distance between them, avoiding being clobbered in his stupor. Studying the area where there should have been a bloody wound, he saw what had blocked his attack. Shining through the new hole in Sado's shirt, was metal plating. Lines and pleats in Sado's clothes hinted at more metal beneath, almost like a skin-tight suit of armor. Only his neck and head were exposed in blatant challenge.

"You've got armor," Dordonii observed aloud, unable to hide the shocked awe in his voice.

"You always aim for my openings."

Dordonii couldn't help but laugh. "Well played. Is it heavy?"

"Exceedingly."

He smiled, but Dordonii wasn't entirely amused. Fighting was no longer an option. Any advantage he might have had over Sado was gone. Turning on his heel, Dordonii made a mad dash for the other end of the village, putting all his energy into his legs. He would have to come back for the woman later, after he managed to escape. As much as he hated to admit it, he might need to bring reinforcements.

When the edge of the forest was in range, he chanced a quick look back to see how far behind Sado was. To his complete surprise, Sado hadn't moved a single step. Like a statue, he stood frozen in time, watching Dordonii with a disturbing expression of sadness.

"You should watch where you're going."

Her melodic voice was the only warning before he felt the bite of steel against his throat and the spilling of his own blood. A partner. He hadn't considered it. How unfortunate.

Sado stood over Dordonii's headless body, unsure if he should feel relieved, sad, or frustrated by his old friend's death. His partner didn't give him much time for reflection, cutting the air with her sword, spattering the ground with blood, as she snapped at him.

"Where's my 'thank you'?" Cirucci glared at him through thickly painted lashes, clearly insulted by his silence. Instead of giving him time to amend the situation, she carried on. "Hope you aren't peeved I killed your bestie. He's had an annoying knack for escaping, and I didn't feel like chasing him through the mountains in my new shoes."

At the mention of them, she inspected the pointed heels and wrinkled her nose in distaste at the discovery of muck. Why she wore such impractical shoes during missions was beyond him. It was impressive she could even walk, let alone fight, but he wasn't stupid enough to make a comment. Doing so would only result in hours of her chattering about his lack of taste and how she needed to teach him about the latest trends, of which he had no interest.

"Alive would have been preferable," Sado remarked, choosing to focus on their work instead of her wardrobe. "We can't interrogate a dead man."

"It's not like he would have told us anything anyway," she replied with a shrug. "Little shits always kick it before we can even get them back to the car."

As much as he hated to admit it, she had a point. Everyone involved with Aizen was killed in some gruesome way before they could begin interrogations. Dordonii likely wouldn't have been different. Perhaps it was a blessing in disguise. His friend died quickly instead of slowly as his insides were consumed.

Sheathing his sword, Sado lifted Dordonii's body and slung it over his shoulder like a gym bag. Cirucci made a face, but he ignored it. "Grab the head."

"Ew." Her face scrunched up more. "Why? That's the Cleanup Crew's job."

"The rains washed away the only road leading to the village. We have to bring the body to them."

Considering the matter closed, Sado headed out of the village. It would take them an hour of straight running to reach the rendezvous point and he wanted to get home. This night weighed more heavily on his spirit than he thought it would, and he wanted to find peace.

"Can't we just leave him here for the animals to take care of?"

"And risk poisoning the ecosystem with whatever destroys the bodies?" If she gave a retort, he didn't hear it, choosing to slip in his earbuds. The soul-strumming music of Rodrigo Y Gabriela did wonders for keeping out Cirucci's grousing as they began the long trek back to the main road. Unfortunately, it did little to tune out his own thoughts, which continued to wander back to his old friend.

His grip on Dordonii's body tightened. They'd grown up together in a little town to the north and joined the Council as soon as they were permitted. Within their unit, they maintained top marks and were offered first pick of assignments upon graduation. They'd been a team - a good team, and then Dordonii disappeared only to return as a bloodthirsty glutton who lived for his instincts and desires instead of his mind and soul. Was it because Sado never really knew him or had he been changed? Did Aizen truly have the power to manipulate those around him, twisting them into someone completely different? If so, he was a more terrifying man than they thought.

The Clean Up Crew was waiting for them at the edge of the mud-covered road, relaxing in the back of their pickup and arguing about something sports related. Cirucci, glad to be rid of her baggage, tossed Dordonii's head into the back. Marco and Alejandro cursed colorfully at her as they jumped out of the bed of the truck, trying to avoid the splattering of blood and dangling tendons.

"What the fuck, Cirucci? Have you been this bitchy all night?" Alejandro demanded.

Ignoring him, she inspected the trunk of a fallen tree and took a seat. Giving her a disapproving glare, Sado set the body gently in the truck. Marco covered it in tarps and bags to conceal it from prying eyes when they reach the city.

"No, no. Don't get up and help," Alejandro shot bitterly at Cirucci.

She shrugged with disinterest. "This was supposed to be my night off, I'll have you know."

"Hunters don't get nights off," Alejandro informed her smugly.

"Like hell we don't! I even filled out that damn form!"

"Manny made that thing as a prank." Marco sniggered at her horrified expression.

"That fucking weasel! I'll gut his stubby ass!"

Sado was quick to answer his ringing phone, glad for an excuse to escape the loud bickering of his peers.

"Yasutura," he answered, stepping away from the others and towards the quiet of the forest.

" _Councilor Reyes on the line for you."_ The clipped voice of the Councilor's assistant gave way to the smooth tone of the Councilor of Security, Councilor Consuela Reyes.

" _Agent Yasutura. I heard your hunt was unsuccessful in regards of gathering more intel. How unfortunate."_

"I can at least confirm he was working for Aizen."

" _Which means, even if you did manage to capture him alive, Dordonii would have been dead before you could even finish asking him a question."_ She sighed in exasperation. " _In that case, considering the traitor is no longer a threat, I would say you did what you could. This won't reflect poorly on your record."_

"Thank you, ma'am."

" _It's good this wrapped up when it did. I have another mission for you. Be in my office in forty minutes."_

An abrupt click signaled the end of the conversation. Councilor Reyes was known for her curt, no-nonsense demeanor. It earned her a glaring reputation as a hard ass, unsympathetic to excuses and failure. Many complained, but she was a good leader. Under her leadership, their territory was more secure, the people safer. Aizen's persisted presence was a blemish on her own record, and she wouldn't stand for it. Dealing with Aizen and his people was her top priority, which made Sado wonder why she was dragging him in for a different mission rather than continuing to focus on finding him.

"Alejandro," Sado called, rejoining the others, "can you give me a ride back to the Consulate?"

Alejandro saluted casually. "Sure thing."

Cirucci rounded on him with a vicious scowl. "You just told me I couldn't get a ride with you! Hypocritical asshole!"

Alejandro and Marco both flinched as her voice climbed an octave. "That's because you want us to take you back to that weird-ass club you like. It's an hour out of our way. At least the Consulate is en route."

"Ass! Fine! I'll take a cab and risk getting mugged."

Alejandro snorted. "Please. You'd eat any mugger alive - literally."

"That's beside the point!"

Feeling the painful throbbing of an oncoming headache, Sado climbed into the cab of the truck and informed Alejandro of the deadline and who was waiting. Not wanting to be the one to piss off Reyes, Alejandro flipped Cirucci the finger and slipped into the driver's seat. Marco got into the back with the body and waved mockingly at Cirucci as they left her behind.

They reached the city of Coban within a half an hour and in relative quiet. The thundering truck pulled up to the Consulate, a small building easily mistaken for a private office. Sado thanked the crew and made his way towards the front door as they drove off towards the morgue. The guard gave him a stiff nod as he entered.

It was late and most of the lights were off, save a few from the late night worker trying to get through the slog of paperwork. Reyes' assistant was waiting for him and was quick to show him to the Councilor's office.

Reyes sat at her desk, her sharp features hidden behind a veil of black hair. Holding a finger in the air, she penned something onto a piece of paper. As soon as she was finished, it disappeared into one of the neat piles of paper on her desk. The assistant closed the door, and left them to their business.

"Have a seat, Agent Yasutura," Reyes motioned to one of the chairs in front of her desk. "A couple of hours ago, I received a call from the Chancellor. Both the Federal Council Agency in the States and the British Council have requested permission to enter our territory to find and retrieve a missing British councilor."

Sado took a seat and studied his superior. The request seemed simple enough, certainly not worth the irritated scowl that lurked beneath her stone-like features. There was something she didn't like, something she didn't trust.

"The Chancellor is certain their councilor is here?"

She nodded. "It seems they have a very reliable source."

A source they clearly didn't intend to tell them about, making the information questionable. The Chancellor wasn't one for being jerked around and lied to, so he either knew the source or had some reason not to ask.

"Do you think they're using the opportunity to spy?"

"Normally, I might consider it a possibility," she replied tersely, her lips pressed into a thin line of displeasure. "But the Chancellor is willing to risk it."

"Why?"

"It seems the councilor they're searching for was captured by Sousuke Aizen."

Sado clenched his jaw, finding himself unsurprised by the revelation.

Reyes leaned back in her chair, and clasped her hands together thoughtfully. "We finally know where he is. The other council agents won't be permitted unlimited access and will need to be supervised by one of our own, but they are giving us a rare opportunity to deal with this man. After we've helped them retrieve their councilor, we will go after him with the full force of the council."

"Wouldn't it be beneficial to do it with their assistance?"

Reyes smirked bitterly. "The Chancellor has other concerns that he would like to deal with now. Matters that need to be addressed before we can go after Aizen directly."

Reyes leaned forward, resting her hands on her desk. "The FCA gave us the location where Aizen is holed up so we can do some reconnaissance before the mission. During your scouting, the Chancellor wants you to find where Aizen might keep important work and information. Once inside with the others, you are to retrieve specific information. That will be your top priority."

Sado stared at her for a moment, trying to understand what it was she was telling him. When he was sure he understood, he was baffled. What was so important that he was to prioritize it ahead of rescuing a councilor? To do such a thing would endanger their already weak relations, and to betray even temporary members of his team? It didn't sit well with him.

Reyes scowled. "Don't give me that look, Agent Yasutura. While we may not agree with him, it is our sworn duty to protect our council and obey our Chancellor."

Duty and loyalty were sometimes bitter pills to swallow. Dordonii's words echoed quietly in his mind, mocking whispers that laughed at him. He was quick to push them aside.

"It will be difficult for me to move without their growing suspicious. Knowing what we do about Aizen, accessing and escaping his facility will be nearly impossible without their assistance."

"Ideally, we'll both get what we want out of this arrangement and we can keep our relationship in tact."

Reyes looked confident as she stood and offered him a set of files. Sado hoped she was right.

"We have a day, at least, before the foreign agents arrive. Find and gather as much intel as you can about the facility before then. Sort through it and make sure nothing compromising is included. I'll deal with making sure we have their full cooperation."

Sado took the files, already running through his scout team selections in his head. He would need experience, stealth, and cool heads. If he planned this right, both sides would come out of this without sacrifice. If not, one way or another, there would be hell to pay.

* * *

Dark.

Everything was dark, a yawning expanse of black emptiness.

She might have thought herself dead if not for a pounding headache and obnoxious dripping of a pipe in the far corner of the room. Chipped metal bit into her wrists, pinning her arms behind her back and anchoring her to the floor. The fractured tiles beneath her were cold and wet, cutting across the skin of her legs. Wherever she was, they had a serious water issue. The air was chilly and damp, coating her naked skin in tingling goosebumps. Modesty made her grateful for the dark, but a nagging at the back of her mind told her it would always be the least of her concerns.

Recalling how she ended up in such a pathetic predicament, anger scorched her body, chasing away the chill that clung to her. To have let sentiment dictate and control her - how childish. She knew the man with her husband's face was someone else. Evidence might have indicated otherwise - the knowledge, the memories, his scent - but he was missing the thing she loved about him the moment she met him.

To have allowed that shell of a memory close enough to incapacitate her was a deplorable disgrace to Kaien's memory and their love.

But now wasn't the time to dwell on her mistakes. Pushing all other thoughts aside, she focused on figuring out how to escape. The length of time needed to heal something like a broken neck wasn't long. She had to be somewhere near the city. And yet, she couldn't hear the sounds of impatience familiar with a large place like New York City, which meant. . .

What did it mean? Were they in the suburbs? Had they managed to go farther?

She tried to think, evaluate the information she had and make the best determination, but everything was cloudy and aching, and her mind protested with the strain of use. Thoughts were sluggish to form and difficult to interpret. Concussion? Drugs? She didn't recall hitting her head or being struck, so they must have drugged her. If that was the case, then there was no telling where she was or how much time had passed. Screaming through clenched teeth, she jerked her chains in frustration.

Footsteps halted her movements. There were three sets. One was certainly a woman, given the snap of her heels on the hard floor. The other two were unknowns, but she had a good idea who they all might be.

The loud clanking of a heavy metal latch assaulted her ears, her head hammering from the grating noise. The following screech of the door as it opened did little to help, but as the figures stepped inside the room, she managed to focus the pain into a sardonic laugh.

"I'll admit, I expected your reaction to be quite different." His heavy voice was like acid, dripping over her and eating away at her layer by layer, but she refused to show its effects.

"How unusual for you," she remarked with mild satisfaction, glowering up at Aizen with a mixture of hate and bitter amusement. "Would you prefer I cower in fear? Perhaps curse you and try to kill you?"

Tugging at her chains, she shrugged. "Apologies, but that might be a bit difficult given my current accessories."

The corners of his lips twitched and her own smirk collapsed. "What do you want with me, Aizen?"

Those hard brown eyes studied her. "I'm a little disappointed you haven't figured it out."

She snorted as she laughed. Hardly becoming, but her appearance was her concern at the moment. "No you aren't. You're quite pleased about it. If there is anything you love more than yourself, it's being several steps ahead of everyone else and given the opportunity to brag about it. And my ignorance can hardly be helped in this instance."

Giving herself a cursory glance, she turned her gaze back to him. "You're certainly giving mixed signals."

"Ah, yes," he said with a chilling smile. "A necessity. Given what we'll be doing, your clothing would only cause problems."

Rukia clenched her jaw, her mind working to figure out his true intentions. Rape was unlikely. There was no benefit for him. Aizen was a monster, but he had no interest in the physical unless it served a purpose, and raping her had none. So what was it he wanted? Halibel and Gin stood behind him, the former taking scrupulous notes while the latter surveyed the area with bored interest.

Her head hurt and demanded she stop trying to use it.

"Perhaps if you hadn't pumped me full of drugs after sending that monstrosity to fetch me, I might be in a better state to play your games."

"Do you like him?" It was clear he was more amused rather than curious about her feedback. "I hadn't intended for you two to meet quite so soon. How did you feel, seeing him again?"

Love, anger, disgust all coiled into a scorching ball rolling about her stomach and trampling her insides. Every time she thought she understood his depravity, he added another layer. "Nothing to rekindle love like a bad impersonator and broken bones. Where is that thing anyway?"

"He's currently being punished. As I said, your meeting wasn't intended to happen quite yet and he acted without orders."

Aizen crossed the room and inspected her restraints. She forced herself to stay put, unwilling to give him the satisfaction of seeing her worry.

"You shouldn't be so cruel," he whispered. "Ever since I brought him to life and told him all about you, he's been rather anxious to meet you. Personally, I'm surprised he's done so well. I thought for a while he might have gone insane. Not everyone did well in that particular experiment."

What did he mean? Had he created Kaien or had he revived him? Aizen's words hinted at possibility without giving her the answer, and it was pissing her off. But no matter what he had done, she was baffled by the decision nonetheless. Why go through all of that to bring Kaien back to life? Was it all in an effort to capture her or were his motivations something else entirely?

Her head throbbed, pressing against her skull, and she cringed. She couldn't think about any of that right now. She needed to concentrate, gather what information she could, and find a way to escape.

"Am I to be another experiment?"

Aizen stood, a smile still on his lips. It was warm, inviting, gentle. She might have found comfort in it, but she knew the reality. It was a mask and nothing more. Reaching up, he caressed her cheek. Biting the tip of her tongue, she managed to keep herself from jerking away.

"Have you ever wondered to what extent that blood protects you? If its power is truly unlimited?" She flinched when his smile widened, knowing he saw the truth in her eyes. "Well, I want to find out in a more official capacity."

"I have a suggestion," she ground out, fear starting to claw at her insides as she realized what he intended, "why don't you start by finding a volcano and jumping in it?"

Recalling Ashido's suggestion brought her temporary comfort, but it was quickly destroyed when Aizen considered her thoughtfully.

"An intriguing idea. I may add it to the list." He turned to the others. "Let's begin with the first test. We'll start with the basics."

* * *

Author's notes: Chad has arrived! And Rukia and Aizen have finally been reunited! Well, that last bit isn't as exciting for her. . .

I hope you all enjoyed this chapter! Sorry I was a little late in posting it. Friday was spent cleaning my house to prepare for a few guests, and then Saturday was spent with my friend helping her sell her stuff. She's moving to Japan and is trying to get rid of as much stuff as possible.

Thank you to everyone one who read this chapter and still enjoy the story! Thanks to **NieveDrop** (who also pointed out a confusing section in the last chapter that I ended up editing for clarity), **IchiRuki 4vr** , and **Haru**! Please keep R &Ring! I love hearing from you guys!


	16. Chapter Fifteen

**Author's Soundtrack:  
** The following are all by Colossal Trailer music, and can be listened to sequentially:

Submersive

In Too Deep

Quiet Moon

Endless Drifter

A Distant Lament

Fallen Sailor

 **Warning: Potentially sensitive and dark material ahead**

* * *

 **Chapter Fifteen**

* * *

Time was lost to her, slipping further and further from her grasp, an anchor unchained and sinking deeper into the murky depths of the dark abyss.

She reached for it.

Chased it.

Fought for it.

Her body wasn't her own. It was his to do with as he pleased - and his imagination was terrifyingly unlimited. There had to be an end to it, a bottom where the tether of her sanity rested. She simply needed to find it. Yet when she thought she had reached it, she discovered nothing but more endless emptiness.

She stopped trying. Drifting in the sea of her mind, she fought to forget the reality that surrounded her like a bruising force. In the sanctuary of her inner thoughts, he couldn't touch her. She was safe, surrounded by the warmth that was her most cherished memories. Their faces brought comfort, breathing life into her dying limbs and collapsing will with their gentle expressions and tender gestures.

Until they fractured under the pressure.

The pieces scattered like stardust, fading away beyond her grasp.

Beckoning them, begging for them, was pointless. They wouldn't return. Those that remained were tainted, spoilt by his cool tones and brutal imaginings. What gave her solace was now only a reminder of her torment. Every loving moment was twisted into something new, false, and unwelcome. To keep them clean, she buried them deep in the shadows of her wavering mind.

Out of her reach.

Out of his.

The ache in her heart was like drowning, the pressure squeezing tightly as the water filled every pocket of her being. She was almost glad when it was cut out of her, an unwanted weight that only caused her more suffering.

There were questions.

So many questions.

They blurred in her mind, difficult to remember, impossible to understand. It didn't matter. Silence was her answer. They had taken enough from her, she would give them nothing else. It irked him, his unanswered curiosities. He was pleased when he heard her anguish, so she sealed her mouth, clenching her teeth so tightly they nearly shattered. Desperation howled for release, beating against her like a feral animal. It clawed at her and left her raw and weak, but she wouldn't relent.

Until she was alone.

Discarded and uninteresting, she submitted and let the tears fall. They stung her eyes and phantom wounds, but she did nothing to stop them. For these few moments, she was free.

But he took that from her too.

When her fangs punctured the flesh, heated blood filled her mouth, and a frantic pulse of life fluttered beneath her grasp she knew she would never break the surface.

She wept openly.

Broken and ruined.

And he was pleased.

And he was cruel.

The body was left there, an empty shell and powerful reminder of all she no longer was. She welcomed his next visitation and the agony that followed. Flames, this time.

They burned.

Bright blue, nearly white.

She prayed they were hot enough to cleanse her fetid soul.

But the memory was still there, the sensation too real, the regret unbearable. Not matter the number of times she abandoned this world and returned, her suffering did not ease. She begged for the end, for the weight of it was too much to bear.

Death wasn't strong enough.

He reached for her. She floated close enough to touch, only to be ripped away by a force more powerful than he. Seeing the impossibility of possessing her, he abandoned her.

In the dreary solitude, she marveled at the faint sensation of the ice cold floor. The chill danced across her skin, leaving it tingling with familiarity, like an old friend coming to greet her. It sang to her, resonating with her in silent harmony, creating a beautiful sound of crackling metal.

He silenced it.

Her vision was clouded.

The song was subdued.

The quiet was oppressive, crushing like the emptiness of space, and she was happy to greet the darkness that followed.

Cool waves of water surrounded her, and she wondered, when would she be free?

* * *

 **Author's note:** I struggled a lot with this chapter. I hope it turned out well. I would love to hear your thoughts on this. I know it's shorter and a bit of a departure from my usual style, but I'm hoping the content itself makes up for that.

Thank you to everyone who favorited and followed my story. And thanks to those who were kind enough to leave reviews: **NieveDrop** , **DLil** (I'm glad you like the music choices!), and **Haru** (Sorry, but it happened :/).

If you didn't read this chapter with the recommended music I listed, I highly recommend it.


	17. Chapter Sixteen

**Author's Soundtrack:  
** This World by Ramin Djawadi

* * *

 **Chapter Sixteen**

* * *

Seventy-two hours.

Seventy-two hours since Rukia had been abducted, and they were no further than a rundown parking lot turned tarmac somewhere in the middle of Guatemala. Like criminals caught sneaking into the country at night, they were surrounded by a small army of Central American Council agents, eyeing them grimly with tight grips on their automatic assault weapons and dressed the the nines in tactical gear. All that time spent on exhausting phone calls, filling out mindless paperwork, arguing and bickering over small and large details, and still they refused to let Ichigo and the others take a single step off the jet.

What happened? Everything was supposed to be green lit, the teams ready to work together to rescue Rukia and take Aizen down a peg. Now the CAC was treating them like an invading force.

Orihime and the others warned him tensions between the councils were high, but this was ridiculous. Was it common for them to go back on their word? Break their promises? Like hell he was going to let this slide. He would risk international conflict if it meant reaching Rukia - politics and borders be damned.

As if sensing his growing agitation, Ashido glanced at Ichigo over his shoulder and gave his head a subtle shake. Ichigo nearly snarled and snapped at him, cursing the man's ability to remain patient while Rukia was Aizen's prisoner, and wishing he could do the same. Being rash wasn't going to get him anywhere fast, especially alone. He gripped the rails of the jet stairs to keep himself from charging past the armored line.

Orihime stood on the bottom step, completely unaffected by the weapons ready to be aimed at them. It was startling how composed she was in the face of immediate danger. Ichigo was certain even a well-placed bullet wouldn't be much of a threat, but thousands of them? Still, she waited.

A dark vehicle pulled up to the edge of agents, it's lights cutting through the crowd and nearly blinding them. A tall woman stepped out of the back and the agents cleared a path. Despite the driver refusing to cut the lights, Orihime pasted on a pleasant smile as the Amazonian woman approached.

"Agent Inoue." The woman's voice was deep, velvety and filled with confidence as she spoke with a slight accent. She looked smug, and it bothered him.

"Councilor Reyes," Orihime greeted in return, offering her hand. "It's nice to meet you. We appreciate you and your council moving so quickly on this matter and accepting our request."

The contradictory nature of her diplomatic tone while Orihime kept her feet firmly planted on the steps of the jet was not lost on him. Ichigo's nerves ratcheted, tightening with every minute they wasted and every twist of that woman's smile.

Reyes took Orihime's hand, her lips twitching with a calculated curl. "I'll be blunt, agent. Our motives are hardly influenced by our desire to help you. For one thing, having a foreign councilor held hostage in our territory only adds to our many problems."

Orihime stared, taken aback by Reye's blunt disregard for sugar coated civility. She was quick to recover, but not before Reyes noticed. The woman smirked in amusement and pride.

"Since your chancellor has promised his assistance, what your motives are are your own," Orihime replied, her voice taking a harder edge as she reminded Reyes of their agreement.

"Yes and no." Reyes grinned as Orihime bristled, clearly unhappy with the direction things were headed. "Along with helping retrieve your kidnapped councilor, there is another matter that must be addressed. You will agree to assist us with it, or you will not be permitted access to our territory."

Orihime narrowed her eyes at the councilor. "None of this was mentioned during our discussions."

"Wasn't it? How unfortunate. Our chancellor outlined the terms of your admittance into our territory. You will agree to all of them before you set foot on our land."

"Don't play games, councilor," Orihime warned, but Reyes ignored her and motioned for someone to step forward. A large, hulk of a man, over six feet tall with a mop of brown hair concealing his eyes, separated himself from the other agents and made his way towards them. A sharpened saber and pistol were strapped to his hip.

"This is Agent Sado Yasutura. He will be your escort."

Orihime appeared relieved. "We're certainly grateful for any further assistance in helping us retrieve Councilor Kuchiki."

Reyes scoffed. "I thought you smarter than that, agent. He isn't what you're agreeing to. He's our one of our best agents and led the scouting team in its investigation of Aizen's facility. What you'll be doing is helping him locate and collect information."

Both Orihime and Ashido stiffened with foreboding.

"What kind of information," Ashido questioned, his tone deepening with warning.

Reyes appeared unaffected, if not entertained. "Information important to our council. More than that, you don't need to know."

"I beg to differ," Orihime replied curtly. "If we're risking our lives to get it, we need to know what it is. The fact that you hid this matter from us until now indicates it's something highly questionable."

The cool demeanor Reyes wore shifted into something jagged and hard. Her deep brown eyes flashed and her lip peeled back to reveal her sharp teeth.

"My people have risked their lives to help find someone _you_ lost and are more than ready to assist you in getting her back. Agent Yasutura is a good agent. You're lucky I'm giving him to you. The least you can do is bring me this item without further questioning."

Feeling emboldened by Reyes' slip of control, Orihime gave Reyes a challenging glare. It was like watching a kitten take on a raging wild cat.

"As has been expressed repeatedly, we're thankful for your willingness to work with us to rescue the councilor. The man is dangerous, but it will be difficult enough trying to get the councilor out without taking any casualties. To further endanger the lives of our team, the councilor, and your team, without knowing the reason why is a bit much."

Reyes must have thought of something because she quickly managed to smooth her ruffled feathers and plaster on a smile. "You will find this information and help Agent Yasutura deliver it to me, or you will get back on your plane and fly back to your territory."

Terror gripped Ichigo's heart with icy fingers. If they left now, there was a chance he would never find Rukia again. Aizen wasn't stationary. He moved, constantly and on a whim. With Rukia gone, Starrk had no attachment, and they might lose their one source of information. Without a solid lead, Rukia would be lost to him, possibly forever.

"You're willing to risk an international incident all because you don't want to share information with us?" Ashido growled. "That only makes us more suspicious."

Reyes shrugged. "It's the FCA that will suffer the wrath of the British more than my people. She was captured in their territory, after all. Eventually, we might be willing to search for you councilor on our own, but whether or not she'll still be one piece. . ."

A gruesome image flashed across his eyes, and Ichigo nearly choked on the fear and horror that overwhelmed him. Something deep inside him stirred, sharing in his turmoil and roiling with outrage at what they might find. It was the first sign of the beast Ichigo had felt since her capture, and he was almost pleased it shared his desire to reach Rukia.

"You bitch."

"How inappropriate."

"Inappropriate? What about blackmailing us-"

"Enough!"

Ichigo ignored the astonished stares of Ashido and Orihime, and kept his eyes on the bemused Reyes. She was attempting to suppress a victorious smile and failing. She'd won and he didn't care. He wasn't in the mood to play politics. All he cared about was finding Rukia - in one piece. The rest of them could go to Hell for all he cared. Rukia would have been furious for his blatant disregard of her beloved rules, but she wasn't there. If she wanted him to be obedient, she shouldn't have gotten herself captured. He would rather she was berating him and pummeling him into the ground then that man's prisoner with precarious peace on Earth.

"I can't speak for the others, but I'll do what you want. Do you know where it is?"

"Ichigo! We don't-" Ichigo silenced Orihime with a steely glare. She snapped her mouth shut and remained silent. Whether she was with him or not, it didn't matter. He was going. She could either help him or get out of his way. Ashido's eyes were on him. He was already acting on his own, here for Rukia and not his council. Chances were high he would have Ichigo's back in this matter. With the three of them, he was sure they could get in, get Rukia and the information, and get out.

Reyes continued to grin. "We have an idea."

"Fine. I'll get your damned information." Hopping over the rail, Ichigo landed on the fracturing tarmac and made his way towards the councilor. They measured one another in silence. Her eyes demanded compliance, and he would submit - for now.

"Like hell you're dealing with this yourself," Ashido scowled in Japanese, tapping Orihime's shoulder and moving past her.

"Oh for crying out loud," Orihime huffed, stepping down onto the pavement. "I can't let you move forward with this without having a representative of the FCA present."

Behind her, five FCA agents Ginjou sent with them began to descend, but Orihime called for them to stop.

"Karl, you and your team are going back. I can't have you getting involved in this."

Karl frowned and shook his head. "With respect, ma'am, we're not going back."

"Whatever this information is that the councilor wants us to retrieve, it is not a part of our original agreement. No matter what she says." Orihime sent Reyes a sharp glance, "I can't expose your team to unforeseen danger during this mission or from the fallout of that information. Besides," she cut Karl off as he began to argue. "A smaller team will have an easier time infiltrating and moving in the facility. I'll keep Ginjou informed."

None of these excuses seemed to convince Karl, or the men standing behind him. Karl opened his mouth to continue the argument, but Orihime fixed him with a look that threatened a great deal if he said another word. He promptly shut his mouth and, with a nod, returned to the jet. The pilot pulled up the stairs and began preparing to take off.

Orihime turned to Reyes, ignoring the others. "Now that everything is settled, we should discuss the details of the mission."

"Of course." Reyes smiled and turned on her heel, making her way back to the car she arrived in. The giant followed after her. None of the other agents moved, remaining to ensure the jet left the airfield.

Inside the car, Reyes called for the driver to take them to Consulate.

"Why aren't we going to the facility?" Ichigo demanded, feeling his patience begin to fray. How many more hoops did he have to jump through before they finally acted? If he had to sign one more piece of paper, he was going to murder someone.

Reyes studied him. "You're the guard, yes?"

"Yeah," he snapped, eyeing her cautiously.

"As I'm sure you're aware, whenever Sousuke Aizen is involved, it's not a good idea to rush in blindly. He's ruthless, methodical, and diabolical in everything he does. Every decision, every move, is calculated. We need to plan your approach or you'll be dead before you can even reach the doors."

And it was in her best interest that they reached the doors. Without a team to back up her agent, it was likely he would fail in getting the information she wanted. Reyes might not care about Rukia, but her life was connected to the information and Reyes would do whatever she could to ensure they made it out alive - and he would be walking out with Rukia. It just pissed him off there was just another thing that had to be done before he could reach her.

"What was your team able to discover?" Ashido asked, pushing the conversation along. Ichigo didn't argue.

"We're not sure how long he's been there, but we think it's been several months," Yasutura spoke up, his deep voice rumbling in the small quarters. "He's got a few sentries established with practiced patrols, but there aren't many. It could be ego. He's been hidden with no indication of exposure so far, but that's just speculation."

"How good are the patrols?" Orihime wondered.

"Easy enough for our team to slip past or neutralize. They're untrained, sloppy, and when they get hungry, they tend to stray. They shouldn't pose a problem."

"Has Aizen been spotted?"

Yasutura nodded. "Some of our own people stationed in the outline area spotted him leaving a few hours ago."

"What about Halibel and Gin?" Ichigo asked, remembering both with great distaste. When they were hunting Aizen back in England, Rukia theorized Halibel always traveled with Aizen. She was his dark companion, assisting Aizen with his experiments. Ichigo clenched his teeth as he recalled seeing Yuzu and Karin in an induced slumber in Kisuke's basement.

"Unknown. Except for the patrols, there hasn't been a lot of movement in and out of the facility."

"What can you tell us about it?" Orihime asked.

"It's a prison, abandoned decades ago." Yasutura pulled out a file from a seat pocket and handed it to her. Opening it, she slipped out a few pictures of a derelict building. "It's decaying on the outside, but plenty of power being provided to light it up at night."

"And still they managed to avoid detection?"

"The thick canopies and dense forest prevent light from traveling far," Reyes remarked with a sneer at Orihime's sly criticism.

"The inside," Yasutura continued, "is in better condition. Aizen's invested in cleaning the place up and making it fit for experimentation. Areas that didn't need it were ignored. There aren't any alarms inside, and the patrols are limited to certain areas."

Ichigo furrowed his brow and ran the information over again in his head. "You managed to get inside and find all that out in such a short amount of time?"

When Yasutura stilled, Ichigo grew curious, especially when Reyes shot the agent a warning glance. The others didn't miss the exchange and Ashido was quick to press.

"What's the issue? What aren't you telling us?" When Reyes nor the agent answered, Ashido leaned forward. The movement was slow and non-threatening, but Ichigo could feel how tense Ashido was, like a viper coiling in preparation. "Let's make one thing clear, councilor. If we aren't successful in rescuing Councilor Kuchiki because you kept anything from us, we won't be bringing back that information you want - not before finding out what it is and sharing it with our own councils. It behooves you to share whatever intel you have regarding this mission."

Reyes narrowed her eyes, ready to challenge Ashido in return. Much to her surprise, and everyone else's, it was the agent who spoke up.

"We have an inside source. They were able to gather the details we needed on the interior workings of the facility."

"Someone was willing to betray Aizen?" Ichigo asked skeptically. Not a single person had ever betrayed him, had ever attempted it. Those who weren't fiercely loyal were chipped to ensure they never disclosed anything important. Yet after only a couple of days, the CAC managed to find one such person who was willing to endure Aizen's wrath or risk death?

No. There was one person who came to mind, but Ichigo had his doubts. If it was Starrk's contact, why hadn't they reached out the Nel and give her the information directly? Why work through the CAC?

Leaning back in the seat, and away from Ashido, Reyes crossed her arms. "We were suspicious at first. They contacted us about an hour after Agent Yasutura and his team returned from scouting. They provided us blueprints, patrol schedules, and the location of where top priority prisoners are held - everything we would need to get in and out without alerting anyone."

"That doesn't mean you can trust the information," Orihime warned.

"True. We verified what we could. So far, everything has checked out. Not a single bit has been a lie."

Ashido scowled. "That doesn't mean anything. They could still be setting a trap."

Growing tired of his belittling tone, Reyes shot forward, her face a breath away from Ashido's. He held his grown, refusing to be intimidated as she snarled at him.

"Don't treat me like some newborn fresh off the Rage. I know this isn't ideal and that there are risks, but your councils aren't giving us much choice. Neither is mine. We either do this with what we have or we don't do it all."

They continued to glare at one another, sparks flying violently as they challenged each other to back down through pure intimidation. Ichigo nearly snapped at both of them, but Ashido gave a nearly imperceptible nod.

The car pulled up to an old office building. It was tiny, only a few floors high, and looked nothing like the Consulates he had seen so far. Simple enough to blend in with the surrounding buildings, no frills, no glass doors, just a building that served the council's needs. In one of the conference rooms, the table was covered in documents, blueprints, photos, and maps. Many of them had notes scrawled on them, indicating points of entry, patrol routes, and other details Yasutura's team had gathered.

"Patrols will likely be lax without Aizen around. Usually around midnight, they start to take turns hunting in the surrounding villages. It should make slipping through the gaps in the guard much easier." Reyes pointed to a small doorway on a set of blueprints. "You can enter the building here. The majority of the experiments are conducted on that level. Not many patrols are permitted in the area."

Ichigo searched the blueprints, quickly trying to memorize the images. Rows of blocks lined along the walls indicated prison cells. Was she in one of them? Would they have to search every one?"

"You mentioned a location where important prisoners are kept. Where is that?"

Reyes pulled a sheet of blueprints from beneath another and laid it on top. Sliding her hands along the surface, she flattened it out before pointing to a large area near the center. "The source indicated high-profile experiments are kept in this area. They're the old medical facilities, making upgrading it easier. Considering the effort Aizen went through to capture your councilor, I imagine that's where she's being kept."

Ichigo stared at the room she indicated, evaluating the different entrances and halls. It was located on the second floor. A set of stairs would take them from the first floor and deliver them just down the hall from the medical area. Five minutes once they were in the building and they would have her.

"What about the information you're looking for?" Orihime asked, leaning on the table and studying the papers.

"There's an office close by where Aizen keeps his files. It should be there."

"And if it isn't?" Ashido wondered, crossing his arms in anticipation for the councilor's remarks.

She didn't disappoint, sneering and baring her teeth in an aggressive smile. "Then you'll just have to look, won't you?"

This screamed a trap, and if he knew it, so did the others. Aizen being away was an even greater indication that something was amiss. Rukia had been his prisoner for only a couple of days. Why leave her now?

But what choice did they have? Trap or no trap, he would get in, get Rukia, and get out. If it took more than a few minutes to find what the councilor wanted or they were at risk for being captured themselves, then he was gone. Once he had Rukia in his arms, he wasn't going to risk losing her again - deal be damned.

"Agent Yasutura will be able to identify what we need. You just need to get him to that room and watch his back, just like he'll be watching yours."

Her eyes landed on Ichigo, as if sensing his contemplations. He didn't avert his gaze. He didn't care what she saw there.

"I'll leave you to continue planning," she said after a moment. "Once you're ready, Agent Yasutura will take you to the armory. Take whatever you want."

After the door closed, silence settled on the room. The three of them didn't dare speak freely with the CAC agent still standing in the room, and he didn't seem inclined to say anything. Orihime suggested they begin familiarizing themselves with the layout of the facility and the surrounding area. Ashido was quick to join her. Ichigo watched and listened, all the while being mindful of their sitter. The giant hadn't moved much. If not for the occasional suggestion and the intelligent glint of his eyes peering out from tendrils of brown, Ichigo might have mistaken him for being asleep.

Together, Orihime and Ashido, with a few comments from the lurking agent, put together several plans. They walked through various scenarios to ensure they were prepared for anything that might go wrong, but Ichigo's impatience was becoming unmanageable. Rukia was close and they were standing around talking about probabilities.

Needless to say, he was grateful when the agent led them out of the room and towards an armory several floors below ground. It wasn't as impressive as the other councils, but the inventory was nothing to scoff at. Their selection ranged from various blades to modern armaments: guns, grenades, and ammunition.

Ashido sneered at a pistol and muttered "barbaric" under his breath.

"Useful," Agent Yasutura stated, walking deeper into the dimly lit room. "They might not kill your target, but they'll certainly slow them down. Obliterated limbs take time to heal."

Ashido wasn't impressed nor convinced. "If you're good enough, you don't need to slow them down to deal with them."

It was difficult for Ichigo to stop from rolling his eyes.

Yasutura stared at Ashido for a moment before replying. "It's your choice."

Orihime moved past Ashido and began making her selections. A couple of short swords, daggers, pistols, grenades, and a heavy duty looking rifle. Yasutura nodded his head in approval while Ashido appeared shocked.

"What?" She questioned innocently, wrapping a harness around her hips to house her weapons. "It's not a bad thing to have options."

Having something to assist with ranged combat was tempting, but Ichigo wasn't familiar with firearms and didn't feel comfortable using them without training. Instead, he equipped himself with additional daggers and a couple of smoke grenades.

Ashido left with what he arrived with.

A team of agents was waiting for them in the parking lot. They climbed into separate vehicles and drove towards the facility. Ichigo wanted to sit in silence, but Orihime and Ashido insisted on reviewing their plans again. It was becoming difficult for him to keep track of all the different pieces and contingencies. He was glad when the cars came to a stop.

What he expected to see was the looming, crumbling edifice of the old prison. What he saw was the forest and the end of the road.

"Rains washed away the road." Yasutura stood beside him and pointed up the hill to the right of the road. "We travel on foot to reach the prison."

"Thank god I wore my combat boots," Orhime mumbled as she studied the steep hill. The ground was still moist from the rains and general humidity. Even with their light footsteps, they weren't walking away from this trip clean.

"Practical," Yasutura remarked. Ichigo and the others were almost shocked to see the large man smirk before diving into the woods. The other CAC agent didn't follow, but stood ready to provide assistance if was required. Ashido, Orihime, and Ichigo followed after Yasutura. It was difficult with the lush undergrowth to move quietly and quickly. For the first couple of miles, they didn't care how much noise the made, but as they drew closer to the prison they slowed their pace. Now and again, they stopped and listened, trying to detect any of the patrols.

Suddenly, Yasutura held up a closed fist signaling for them to stop. Ichigo stilled and listened. Nothing sounded out of place - not that he was particularly familiar with the ambient noises of the rainforest. It was alive, a loud chorus of life that made it difficult to differentiate between what was natural and what was not.

The wind blew in his face, carrying the scent of another vampire, and just like that, they scattered, positioning themselves several yards apart before the guard could discover them. When a young man stumbled into the area, Ashido acted. Sprinting from his spot, he killed the man with one swift blow from his sword. The man fell into his waiting arms and he set him down on the ground quietly before listening. When there were no signs of a partner, the others abandoned their hiding places.

"Did you have to kill him?" Yasutura questioned, eyeing the lifeless body.

"And risk him warning the others?" Ashido demanded incredulously. "Besides, he works for Aizen. There's no room for sympathy."

Yasutura looked displeased, even while he watched Orihime make quick work of hiding the body, but he continued without further argument.

Two more patrols were identified and neutralized before they finally reach the perimeter of the prison. A mixture of relief and trepidation washed over Ichigo when the walls of the prison lurched from the shadows like a menacing titan covered in ivy and decay. What awaited them inside was considerably more frightening.

Shadows paced the top of the buildings. They were scattered and slow-paced, easy enough to slip past. The entrance they were to use was on the east side of the building, hidden away from the light of the moon. Good for them, but good for an ambush as well. The lax security set his nerves on edge. This was definitely a trap, but what choice did he have? The idea of Rukia remaining the prisoner of that man for another minute set his blood on fire and urged him to hurry.

Ashido was the first to move, with the purpose of securing the entrance or signaling at any hint of a trap. A bird call he mimicked signaled the all clear. When the patrol passed next, the others hurried to the entrance. Ashido stood beside the open door, watching for any indication they were noticed. Once they were all inside, Ashido closed the door securely and quietly behind them.

The smell hit Ichigo with an overwhelming force, nearly knocking him off his feet.

Orihime choked on her breath. Ashido covered his nose, his face crinkling in disgust. Ichigo did the same, cursing under his breath at the vile stench that burned his nose. Only Yasutura remained composed, a slight twitch of his nostril the only indication he was even remotely bothered by the smell.

"What is this?" Orihime demanded, choking out another breath.

The chaos of smells made it difficult to pinpoint what exactly they were inhaling. The putrid smell of urine and excrement was obvious. Harsh chemicals that ate at the lining of his throat were layered on top of that, along with varying levels of rot and even more chemicals. Mixed in there was the painfully familiar scent of scorched flesh and hair. The explosion at the hospital briefly flashed in his mind, memories of Rukia laying on top of him in a vain attempt to protect him from the blast, bodies of the dead and dying scattered around them.

"Let's keep moving." Yasutura continued down the narrow hall. The walls were damp with mildew, adding to the unforgiving stink that assaulted them as they made their way deeper into the prison.

Beyond a rusted barred gate, the hall expanded, stretching three floors tall. On either side, rickety walkways provided access to a series of metal doors. Cells. And nearly all of them were full. Cries of agony echoed off the mold-covered walls, fists pounded and shook the doors that locked them away. His ears rang. His chest hurt. All of these people, trapped and suffering. How many were there? How many of them innocent? How many like Rukia?

One thing stopped him from searching for a way to unlock all of the cells and free everyone. They were here for Rukia. There was no time to save anyone else. Any delay here risked their own capture, and he couldn't afford that.

His mind and heart rioted. It was wrong to leave them behind, knowing their torment was hardly over, but he had to make a choice. Still, his stomach revolted.

Orihime nudged him in the side, indicating Ashido and Yasutura were further down the hall. Thankfully, the smells and sounds faded as they moved from one section to another. So far, they hadn't come across anyone. Rather than feeling relieved, it put them all on edge. With every step, Ichigo became more convinced this was a trap. Sliding two of the daggers out of their sheaths, Ichigo armed himself for close quarters combat. Assuming they were close enough to attack.

Ichigo eyed the large gun on Yasutura's back and he wondered with concerned if Aizen's people were similarly armed.

They climbed the stairs to the second floor. At the top was the door Ichigo had been anxious to see, but now he was hesitant. Would he find Rukia there or a wall of enemies?

Yasutura and Ashido flanked either side of the doors, ears pressed to the gap in the frame. When they signaled the all clear, Ichigo felt his heart slam against his chest in anticipation and fear. Orihime and Ichigo stood to the side as Ashido reached forward and opened the door. It swung wide and they all rushed in, swords and guns ready for an attack.

But there was no army.

No villain.

In the dark room a battle had already been waged and lost, leaving behind scars that tore at him, ripping and shredding what little hope he had left into bleeding pieces of despair.

* * *

 **Author's note:** Sorry for the late update. My friend was staying with us this weekend. Thank you all for the responses from last chapter. I was really worried about how it turned out (and the length). This chapter was obviously much longer, but for me it felt a little rushed. I blame Ichigo for that. He just wanted me to hurry so he could get to Rukia. He might be regretting it now. . .

Thank you to everyone who favorited and followed my story. And thanks to those who left me some reviews: anonymous guest, **yocel** (here's a tissue), **NieveDrop** , **Haru** (I'm glad you liked the music. Those pieces really spoke to me for that chapter), and **IchiRuki** **4vr** x2.

Please R&R! Even for chapters long past. I love hearing your comments!


	18. Chapter Seventeen

**Author's Soundtrack:  
** So Far (feat. Arnor Dan) by Olafur Arnalds  
Ameksa (The Shepherd) by Taalbi Brothers (line break)

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Chapter Seventeen

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There was too much to look at.

Blood.

Ashes.

Blood.

Burns.

Scorch marks.

Water.

Blood.

And it all smelled of her, hints and traces of her soft sweet scent tainted with misery, pain, and death. Ichigo's legs shook and he nearly fell to his knees in despair. They were too late. Aizen had wasted no time and done the unimaginable. Except he could. There was enough evidence to allow his mind to grasp at the possibilities, and in the end, he had failed to save her from it.

In the center of the room stood a pile of dying embers, the remnants of Aizen's latest trial. Ichigo stared at it, knowing Rukia had been there - stood there, suffered there - alone and stubbornly challenging Aizen to the end. And where had he been? Dealing with fucking politics. In the center of the room was a dimly glowing reminder of his failure.

What did he do now? Where did he go from here? Where did they start?

Orihime rushed to the remains of the fire and began digging furiously. He stared, transfixed with horrified curiosity. What was she looking for? What would she find in the remains that would help them pick up Rukia's trail?

And then he saw it. A flash of pale olive. A hint of skin.

She was thin and small, the smooth edges of her bone pressing against her soft flesh. It was as if she had been starved for weeks, a skeleton of skin and nothing more. But she was there, buried in the ashes like the corpse she was. Except she was breathing, though the rhythm was shallow and unsteady. Rukia was here, alive, and whole.

"Ashido, your jacket!"

The desperation in Orihime's voice broke through the silent relief of having her within reach. They'd found her, but she was far from safe, far from okay. Ashido hurried forward, removing his rain jacket as Orihime pulled Rukia from the cinders. Her bare flesh was dirtied and partially marred from the still cooling embers. Metal scraped on the stone floor and the thick links of chains emerged from the ashes, revealing heavy bracelets clasped around her wrists.

Yasutura attacked the plating where the chains were attached to the floor, breaking them free from the anchor point. Ichigo snarled at their offensive presence. Orihime wrapped Rukia in Ashido's jacket and Ashdio found a way to tie the chains up so they wouldn't drag, and Ichigo just watched. Caught between the enclosing walls of joy and devastation he suddenly realized how useless he was. Orihime had been the one to discover her, Ashido was the one to clothe her, and Yasutura the one to free her. Even in their moment of being reunited, he had failed her.

"-igo! Ichigo!"

Snapping his eyes to Orihime, she watched him with concern, though her jaw was set in determination.

"She's alive, but her body is recovering from - she needs blood. Whatever happened, her body doesn't have enough blood to fully recover. If we don't get her blood soon, she'll die."

She wouldn't.

She couldn't.

That was the curse of being a true immortal. Instead, she would continue to suffer, caught between the edge of death and life. He refused to let her stay in that purgatory any longer. This wasn't the time for him to feel broken or lost. Rukia needed him. He could worry about the rest later.

Ichigo approached Orihime as she stood, and took Rukia from her. She was light - too light - like a ghost barely existing in their world. Immediately he pressed her close to him and relished in the feeling of her.

"I can give her some of my blood, sustain her until we get back," he offered, staring at her face and silently begging for her to open her eyes.

"Don't be stupid," Ashido snapped. "In her current state, she wouldn't be able to stop. She'll drain you of your energy and then you'll be useless to us and her. The only way to help her now is to get her back to the consulate."

Ichigo wanted to snarl and yell at Ashido for his insult, but the misery in his eyes was like a punch to the gut. This wasn't out of jealousy or pride. Seeing Rukia in such a state was just as painful to Ashido as it was him. Without a doubt, Ashido would have given her all of his blood, but he was right, it wouldn't help them. They needed all of their strength to escape.

"There is still one more job to do," Yasutura reminded them, his tone almost unhappy as he stood in the doorway and kept an eye on the hall.

The thought of remaining in this building for one more second curdled his insides, but Rukia needed blood. If they crossed the CAC now, there was a chance they would refuse to help her entirely. If they were lucky enough to be released, they would have to find a way to get her blood, and the options without the assistance of a council did not sit well with him.

"Lead the way," Ashido told Yasutura. His knuckles were white as they wrapped around the hilt of his sword. Like Ichigo, he was itching to be done with this place. The sooner they found what Reyes wanted, the sooner they could help Rukia.

As a unit, they moved down the hall towards the old offices. Yasutura and Ashido took the lead, moving cautiously down the hall and around a corner. Orihime brought up the rear, listening for any signs of them being followed. Ichigo struggled to keep his steps even to prevent the chains from rattling, but no one came. Every minute they weren't attacked or they went without seeing any sign of Aizen's people, the more they worried.

Yasutura made quick work of the door that separated him from his mission. The others watched the halls. Ichigo took the moment to check on Rukia. She was still, her sleeping face serene. Despite her emaciated appearance, there were no other marks on her, no sign or indication of what had been done to her. But he knew that meant nothing. He had seen her with her chest ripped open and heart crushed, only for it to heal with no trace of scarring. Other vampires took time to heal, but even without blood, her body was able to repair most of the damage, though now it left her with barely enough energy to breath.

His grip on her tightened and he pulled her face to his. Pressing his forehead to hers, he silently begged for her to be all right.

He needed her to be awake.

He needed her to open those eyes, to glare and scorn and mock him.

He needed her to stand on her feet and kick his ass when he got out of line.

He needed her to smile softly at him when things were going wrong.

He needed her to . . .

He needed her.

"Got it," Yasutura stated, stepping into the hall. He held in his hand a small flash drive. "Let's go."

They were running down the hall in an instant, Ichigo nearly leading the way. The labyrinth of halls couldn't end soon enough, and his chest nearly burst in relief when Orihime called out that the exit was just ahead. They pulled up short and waited, listening for any signs of movement on the other side.

Ichigo's impatience demanded he sprint through the door and outrun whatever danger was waiting for him, but he didn't dare risk Rukia. He would follow the instructions the others gave him.

"Once we're outside, head directly east," Yasutura told them. "Go as fast as you can. We need to reach the road where the other teams will be waiting for us. Until then, we're on our own."

He waited for all of them to indicate they understood him and then he threw the door open. They burst the doorway and kept running. He should have known something was wrong when they didn't hear anything. There was no shouting, no hurried footsteps of patrols racing to catch up to them. There was nothing.

"Where are they?" Orihime demanded. None of them stopped to look behind them, continuing to press forward.

"Aizen was very specific that we wait until you were outside the facility."

Ichigo slid to a stop and glowered at Kaien who now stood in front of him. The others stopped as well and drew in close to him and Rukia. Kaien only grinned.

"He didn't want to risk the fighting destroying his work, you see."

Ichigo snarled when Kaien's eyes fell on Rukia, turning his body so she was hidden from Kaien's view. Something in Kaien's eyes darkened, but he continued to smile.

"I told him I wasn't keen on using her for bait, but he guaranteed I wouldn't lose track of her." His grin widened, curling into something more sinister as he tapped his chest. "Her heart will never be lost to me again."

"A tracking device?" Ashido snarled.

"The timing was a bit tricky. After the last test, there wasn't much of her left. We've found that if foreign objects are inserted too early in the healing process the body forces them out."

Ichigo's body went numb with outrage. Hadn't this man done enough? How could he pretend to love and care about her, and yet still be a part of tormenting her? How can he look at her in her current state and smile? Ichigo longed to beat sense into him, but he wouldn't put her down. He wouldn't choose his anger over his desire to protect her. He would leave that to Ashido.

Ashido appeared to Kaien's left, the hilt of his sword striking Kaien across the jaw and sending him stumbling. Kaien stared at Ashido in shock, rubbing his jaw tenderly.

"I'm impressed. Normally I'm the fast one-"

Ashido was behind him, jamming the heel of his shoe into Kaien's spine. Kaien fell forward but managed to keep his footing. Before Ashido could land another blow, Kaien evaded and pulled out his own sword. The smile was gone from his face, his dark brows furrowed in frustration.

"It's rude to interrupt someone."

"I don't give a shit. Like hell I'm going to let you get your hands on her again."

"She's _my_ wife. I can put my hands where I want." Kaien spat.

"You're not Kaien," Ashido declared, preparing for another attack. "You might look like him, but you're just some failed copy."

"The fuck did you just say?"

"You heard me," Ashido growled, grinning in satisfaction at seeing Kaien rattled. He'd found a weak point, and he was going to hammer it in. "The real Kaien wouldn't have let this happen to her. He would have died before letting Aizen anywhere near her."

"Don't lecture me on my relationship with her," Kaien hissed. "I know about the two of you. But you were nothing to her. It's me she loves. It's me she married. It's me she vowed to be with. She's _mine_! If you think you can-"

Kaien flew back, blowing through several trees. They fell with a thunderous crack, sending birds and other animals scattering. Yasutura straightened, shaking his fist as if to shake off the sting of the pain.

"We need to leave before he recovers."

Ichigo didn't hesitate and raced through the forest, gunning for the base of the mountain where backup was waiting for them. The others flanked him as they maneuvered around the trees and through the undergrowth, intent on putting as much distance between themselves and Kaien. As much as Ichigo and Ashido wanted to end him, they didn't dare risk losing her to him.

Ichigo heard him before he saw him. It wasn't difficult, his crazed cackles filling the forest like a crazed maniac. Then he appeared on the right, aiming for Orihime as he swung his sword wildly. She easily ducked and shot him point blank in the forehead with her pistol. His body dropped into the brush with a heavy thud.

"Not as good as cutting off the head," she remarked. "Depending on his breeding, he might be on his feet in another 15 minutes."

"Rukia's husband was a human she transformed," Ichigo told her.

If she was shocked, she managed to conceal it tactfully with a nod. "It should take about 10-15 minutes then. Brain damage takes a little longer to heal since it's a complicated organ."

"Unless you have an extra advantage."

Ichigo and Orihime halted as Kaien came up from behind them, bullet hole gone. He pulled ahead and turned, forcing Ichigo to a stop. Yasutura and Ashido flanked him, but Kaien didn't seem panicked by his situation.

"How-" Orihime stared at him in shock. "Even if you were a pureblood, it should have taken at least five minutes for a wound like that to heal."

Snickering, Kaien held up a small pill bottle and shook its contents. "Super healing in a bottle. One of Rukia's gifts to Aizen."

Ichigo's stomach dropped and he felt the color drain from his face. "What do you mean?"

"Well, not that he tells me everything, but he's been looking for a way to bottle her healing ability."

"Why?" Ichigo asked, confused. What reason did Aizen need to create pills for healing when he was just like her?

Kaien raised an eyebrow, dumbfounded. "So he can use it? Really, I know you're young, but to be such an idiot. . . What was Rukia thinking? Are you that good in bed?"

Ichigo was quick to dismiss the suggestion. "But he doesn't need it. He has the same abilities. I saw him recover from a full decapitation."

"Had."

Realization slowly sunk in at Kaien's insinuation. Aizen was no longer the same as Rukia. He wasn't a true immortal anymore. True immortality wasn't permanent, the effects temporary. They'd been exposed at the same time, and yet Rukia could still heal impossible wounds at an accelerated rate. Was her's permanent or was it just longer lasting? Aizen needed Rukia to find out what was different about her.

"Looks like your brain is finally working," Kaien said with a mocking smirk. "He needed to confirm whether or not she still maintained the benefits of the blood. Turns out, she got all the bonuses without the time limit. No matter how he killed her, she always came back. No matter how he sliced, burned, drowned her, everything healed."

Each word was like a knife wound, cutting and twisting, digging deeper with every revelation. How many times had Aizen taken her life? How many different ways? Ichigo's eyes gazed down at her soft features and he dreaded the thought of seeing them twisted in anguish, marred by unspeakable pain. His fingers dug into her body as he held her close, and he swore he would make that bastard pay.

"Kaien."

A man stepped out of the darkness, ghostly pale with vibrant green eyes that studied all of them with disinterest before landing on Kaien.

"You talk too much. Master Aizen would be very displeased to hear you've been eavesdropping and snooping around. Especially after you previous mistake."

The smile on Kaien's face fell, his playful demeanor vanishing. He shifted nervously, snarling like a cornered animal at the threat this new man posed. "It was his own fault for trying to keep me away from her to begin with. She isn't yours. You had no right to meddle. I should have been the one he sent after her. Fate even brought her to me."

"Fate means nothing to Master Aizen if he cannot control it. You, however, are under his control, and it would do you well to listen to him."

Kaien hissed. "Shut the fuck up. You might be Aizen's favorite, but don't think you're better than me."

"Of course I don't think I'm better than you," the man looked at Kaien pointedly. "I _know_ I'm better than you."

"And I know you're both idiots."

Orihime tossed two grenades at both of them and shouted for the others to run as they exploded near their enemies. Ichigo pushed himself to move as fast as he possibly could, ignoring the biting leaves and branches as they scratched at his face and limbs.

"You and Yasutura keep going," Orihime shouted to him. "Ashido and I are going to deal with those two."

Ichigo stared at her, nearly stopping to ask what she was thinking, but she was gone, with Ashido right behind her. Ashido might have gotten in a few lucky strikes, but Kaien wasn't going to be easy to deal with. And now there was this second guy, who was clearly ranked higher than Kaien. It didn't bode well. It would be better if they just kept running until they reached the others.

Ichigo slid to a stop and almost gave chase, but Yasutura blocked his path.

"You heard her."

"But they can't face them, not without more help!"

"They're trained fighters, have been for decades, if not more. You insult them by having so little faith in them and their abilities. Trust in them." Yasutura nodded his head towards Ichigo's arms, drawing his attention back to Rukia. "And have you forgotten the reason you came here?"

The words were like an arrow to his heart, striking true and nearly causing him to stagger with the power of it. If he stayed, Rukia would be in danger of falling into Aizen's hands again. He couldn't risk that, no matter how much he wanted to help the others. Clenching his jaw in determination, Ichigo sprinted towards the road.

The sight of the escort vehicles was a welcome one. While they were gone, Reyes had mobilized more forces, and they were armed to the teeth with blades, guns, and other weapons. If Ashido and Orihime failed, Kaien and the pale vampire wouldn't make it far.

"Agent Yasutura," greeted one of the other agents."Good to see you made it back. The councilor is waiting for news of the data."

"There's a battle going on in the forest," Ichigo cut in. "You should send some people to help."

The agent narrowed his eyes at him and nearly sneered. "We have strict orders from the councilor to remain here."

"Why the hell-" Ichigo began to rage, ready to rip Reyes a new one. There were people who needed help and she was just going to let her people stand by and do nothing? Kaien had a whole bottle full of pills that would make him impossible to kill. If that other vampire had the same, Ashido and Orihime's escape would be impossible.

"Captain," Yasutura began, giving Ichigo a warning look. Ichigo returned it with equal fervor. "We need blood for the British councilor and a medic to take a look at her."

Ichigo knew what Yasutura was doing and was mixed about whether or not to be grateful. With his commanding tone, the other agent listened to Yasutura with no hesitation. A medic was called for immediately. He urged Ichigo to lay Rukia in the back of a van turned mobile hospital and leave her for inspection. When Ichigo refused, Yasutura stepped in and pulled him away with a stern grip.

If not for the two figures hobbling their way through the trees, Ichigo might have laid into Yasutura for meddling. Ashido leaned on Orihime, both covered in blood and mud. Ichigo and other agents hurried forward to help them out of the forest.

"What happened?" Ichigo asked, assisting Orihime down the hill.

"Those damn pills are a pain in the ass," Ashido cursed, spitting blood on the grass. Glancing at Orihime, he gave her a small smile. "Remind me of this moment the next time we're in an armory."

Orihime chuckled and then flinched. "Gladly."

"Looks like the two of you put up a pretty good fight," Yasutura remarked, a pleased smile playing on his lips.

"I wouldn't call it 'good'. Those regenerative powers are beastly. We would have been in big trouble if two of Starrk's people hadn't shown."

Ichigo stopped, looking between Ashido and Orihime. "Starrk's people are here?"

Orihime nodded. "Some scowling man with blue hair and that woman, Nelliel."

When Orihime stiffened, Ichigo asked if she was alright, but she ignored him and faced Yasutura.

"Do you still have that flash drive?" She asked, nearly panicked.

"Yes."

"Destroy it," she ordered. "It has a tracker in it. Not only that, it has a virus. You stick that into a computer and you open up the whole CAC network to Aizen."

Yasutura was silent, considering her words. "How do you know this?"

"Nelliel told us," Ashido replied. "Where's Rukia? We have to get that tracker out of her before we leave the area."

"We have a doctor looking at her now."

"Good. Do you have a medical van? Does it have supplies for surgery?" Orihime demanded, pulling away from Ichigo and hobbling after Yasutura.

"Yes." Yasutura led them back to the van where the doctor was inspecting Rukia.

The doors to the van were closed, the windows blocked with a dark tint and a curtain. Ichigo was grateful for the discretion, remembering there wasn't a single piece of clothing on her except for Ashido's jacket and the chains.

Orihime opened the door to the van and closed it immediately behind her. Ichigo reached for the handle, but Ashido grabbed hold of his hand.

"You don't want to be in there."

Ichigo frowned. "Why the hell not?"

"Kaien wasn't kidding about it being in her heart," Ashido explained with grimly. "It's placed just outside one of the walls, surrounded by tissue. They'll have to break her ribcage and then cut it out."

"They can give her anesthesia," Ichigo told him, trying to keep himself calm.

Ashdio's jaw tightened. "Orihime said without knowing what Aizen did to her - gave to her - she doesn't want to risk introducing another drug into her system."

As if she hadn't been through enough, now they had to hurt her more? Ichigo clenched his hands into tight fists, the frustrated energy building until it felt like it would explode. He slammed his fist into one of the cars. The metal sheet dented, and the car rocked onto two of its wheels before falling back into place. How much more did she have to suffer?

"Agent Yasutura," Ashido began, giving Ichigo time to calm down, "the flash drive."

Yasutura pulled the small device from his pocket and stared at it a few moments. It was a difficult decision. He would be going against his orders, but if he didn't destroy it now, he risked endangering his entire council.

An agonized scream punctured the night and then immediately stopped. Ichigo's blood ran cold and his body felt heavy. Ashido didn't look much better.

Yasutura dropped the flash drive on the ground and stomped on it.

It was another twenty minutes before Orihime came out of the van. She was pale, her easy smile gone.

"The tracker is out and dealt with. The doctor has her set up with some blood, but we'll want to do a full examination and blood work when we get to the medical facility." Ichigo began to argue, wanting to take her home as soon as she looked better, but Orihime cut him off. "I know you want to get her away from here, but we have no idea what happened to her. She needs to be somewhere with the proper equipment. It's a council-run facility. She'll be safe there."

Ichigo gave her a challenging glare. "Can you guarantee that?"

She started to reply and then hesitated before responding in Japanese. "You know I can't."

"She's right," Ashido added, continuing in Japanese. "We have a better chance of protecting her here than if we're traveling."

They were right. He knew it, but he couldn't help but worry. And what if Reyes tried to blackmail them further? What if she decided to take her anger out on them? What if she found about Rukia's true immortality and chose to use it to her own advantage? There were so many things that could go wrong, but what choice did he have?

"Fine," Ichigo finally conceded, "but you take the lead. I don't trust these people."

Orihime smiled warmly, though it didn't have near the same shine as it usually did. "I don't think that will be a problem."

Ichigo climbed into the back of the medical van with Rukia. The medic had wrapped her in a thick fleece blanket and secured her to a gurney. Slipping his hand beneath the blanket, he wrapped his fingers around her hand, giving it a tender squeeze and praying she would wake up soon. But he couldn't help but wonder if, when she did finally wake up, she would still be the same Rukia he knew.

* * *

Ulquiorra stared up at the stars through the waving canopy of the forest. It was difficult to remember, but he was certain he had once enjoyed the sight of starlight, something beautiful, awesome, and out of reach. Now, they were just twinkly specks of light in the night sky.

It had been like that since he awakened, since he began following Aizen. Hints of who he used to be would resurface, only to flounder and fade away. He didn't mind. He preferred the calm serenity of his mind over the anxious clamorings of his memories. It helped him deal with idiots like Kaien.

"What's your problem?"

Shifting his gaze from the stars, Ulquiorra glanced at Kaien with disinterest.

"I had everything under control until you stepped in. Now she's gone. "

"She's gone because of your inability to keep your mouth shut.

"What?"

Sighing, Ulquiorra stood, brushing the debris of the forest from his clothes. They were burnt beyond repair, exposing the pale skin beneath. He would have to find something new to replace them with. Kaien was still recovering, his arms slowly stitching themselves back together. It was taking longer than it should have, an indication the pills were wearing off.

"Simply put, if you had just grabbed her instead of babbling, she would still be in our possession. And, thanks to you and the interlopers, they know about the trackers. Aizen will be rather angry when he returns."

Kaien paled. An interesting reaction. It had been some time since he'd known the feeling of fear himself and wondered what it would be like to feel it again.

"He needs me."

"He needs no one. We are all dispensable to him, except her. Even then, one day her usefulness with wane."

Kaien was blessedly silent, reflecting on his next steps. Would he stay and receive his punishment or would he run? Where to? How far would he get? The curiosity was fleeting. It didn't matter what he decided. The end results would be the same.

Kaien cursed, coming to the same realization.

"If you're that worried about it, perhaps you shouldn't have failed."

Kaien scowled at his advice. "Hey, you lost her too."

"No," he corrected him, "I simply failed in assisting you when you were overwhelmed."

Kaien's pale pallor was replaced with vivid red as he let his anger take control of him. "You ass hole! You're throwing me under the bus?"

"Hardly. Your failings are simply your own."

"Son of a bitch!"

It was easy enough to read Kaien's movements. His wounds slowed him considerably, almost to that of a human. His swings were broad and rough, easy to dodge. In his current state, there was no way he would be able to fight on the same level, and he knew it. Still, he charged. The futile swings quickly grew wearisome. Grabbing his arm, Ulquiorra struck the side of his leg, popping his knee to the side. The man screamed and collapsed on the cushion of brush.

"Are you finished?"

"I'll be done when one of us is dead." Kaien staggered to his feet, cringing as he reset his leg and allowed it time to begin healing. His body was struggling with all of the damage.

His declaration confused Ulquiorra, who tilted his head to the side, trying to see if the new angle would enlighten him as to why Kaien would bother with such a ridiculous challenge.

Kaien snorted. "You don't get it, do you? You always were a little fucked up in the head after what they did to you."

"I understand, I simply don't see the point in such a bizarre choice. I can just as easily bring you back without killing you."

Kaien sneered. "No. You'll kill me or I'll kill you."

"You're wasting my time."

Kaien lunged at him again. Ulquiorra swept his sword away, leveling his own weapon at Kaien's neck. Smirking, Kaien leaned into the sharpened edge. Blood ran down the blade. Ulquiorra debated if it was worth the headache of explaining Kaien's death. Aizen seemed fairly amused with him, and despite disobeying orders, he _had_ been of use when fetching the woman. But that trick wouldn't work a second time. Clearly, he was growing feral and would only pose to be an issue in the future.

However, that wasn't his call.

Pulling his blade away, Kaien scowled. "I refuse to go back to being his lab rat!"

"You certainly didn't mind when it was others he was experimenting on." A strange thought nagged at him and nearly burst from his mouth. It was an unfamiliar sensation he thought to ignore but decided to allow it to bubble forth. "Is she truly your wife?"

Something changed in Kaien's eyes, but he didn't know what it was. Grief? Regret? Perhaps it was nothing and he was simply projecting his own imaginings on the man.

"It doesn't matter either way."

"No, I suppose it doesn't."

Ulquiorra turned away and began heading back to the facility.

But Kaien seemed resigned to his fate. A shuffling behind him drew his attention. The grenade nearly struck his face, and on reflex, he batted it away with his sheath. Kaien smiled, catching the grenade as it exploded. When the smoke cleared, nothing but bits and pieces remained. The pills had worn off a few minutes ago. He would not recover.

Ulquiorra stared at the scorched earth where Kaien had stood. Several thoughts ran through his head, but in the end, all were dismissed in favor of returning and informing Aizen of what happened.

"You know, she said it would be a waste of time, waiting to see if you two survived." Ulquiorra turned to see the man from their earlier fight sitting on the branch of a tree. His smile was wide, his eyes wild. "Looks like I was right."

Ulquiorra debated how to respond to this man. Fighting him was difficult. His techniques were seemingly uncontrolled, shifting easily from melee to hand-to-hand to ranged. Whatever the situation called for, this man adapted. All the while, he laughed and mocked. It was tiresome.

"Not gonna ask what I want?"

Ulquiorra debated about whether or not he cared. All that mattered was that this man got in his way and that was a problem.

Ulquiorra drew his sword.

The man chuckled merrily and hopped down from the tree, his hands in his pockets. "Just the answer I was hoping for."

* * *

 **Author's note:** Poor Rukia. Things aren't going to get any easier now that she's been rescued…

Thanks to all of those who favorited, followed, continue to read and enjoy this story! Thanks to my reviews from the last chapter. I'm so sorry I didn't reply! Work last week was fairly brutal. I was working 10-12 hour days DX.

Thanks to **NieveDrop** (I hope you're happy ;)) **, Haru, Yesmin** (I think that's cheating, but I'll allow it ;). I'm so glad you love the story!), **IchiRuki 4vr,** and the anonymous guests for their reviews! Please continue to R&R! I love hearing from you guys!


	19. Chapter Eighteen

**Author's Soundtrack:  
** Come As You Are by Civil Twilight

* * *

 **Chapter Eighteen**

* * *

She woke screaming.

The sound of it was like being dropped in freezing water, icy droves pouring into him in excruciating waves. Ichigo raced into the room demanding explanations and stopped at the door. Physicians surrounded her bed, fighting to strap her to it. Thin arms flailed and struck out where they could, landing a few good blows and sending a couple doctors stumbling back. Her eyes were wild, wide with fear, confusion, and desperation. Ashido moved past him, rushing to her side with Orihime to help calm her. When their eyes met, her struggles lessened. She stared at him with a heart-wrenching mix of disbelief and joy.

And then she snapped. Wrenching her limbs from the doctors, she slipped from the bed and rushed the door where Ichigo barred the way. Sliding to a stop, she stared up at him with those pools of amethyst he had been aching to see. A few days felt like ages, but she was finally here, standing in front of him, within reach. He'd thought he would have seen the same joy she shared with Ashido.

When the tears began to fall he was shocked. It wasn't relief, but anguish that filled those eyes. She shook her head, mumbling something unintelligible and took a step back before her legs gave beneath her.

He was at her side in a heartbeat, catching her before she hit the hard floor. She said nothing as he picked her up from the freezing floor and carried her back to the bed. Orihime took the lead from the other doctors, giving Rukia a warm smile before speaking with her. Ichigo watched with concern as Rukia began to withdraw, only responding with the occasional nod.

She was docile until Orihime tried to give her a sedative, and the battle renewed. He was relieved when they finally managed to dose her and she fell into a deep sleep.

Until she woke screaming a few hours later.

And again after another couple of hours.

And again.

And again. . .

Ichigo watched helplessly as Orihime injected yet another sedative into Rukia's IV drip. As the medication slipped into her veins, Rukia's breathing slowed and her bloodshot eyes fluttered closed. Orihime watched the numbers on the monitor as her heart rate slowed and then gave Ichigo a nod, indicating they leave.

In the hall, Ichigo rubbed his face and fell against the wall. His body ached from the emotional whiplash from the past few days: furious, then heartbroken, then raging, then full of regret. It was an endless cycle he couldn't break. He wanted to cling to the wrath that had become a constant simmer beneath his skin, but it always slipped from his grasp whenever he saw her asleep, or frantic, or scared. He wanted to gather up a team and hunt Aizen down, rip him limb from limb, but he couldn't leave until Rukia was stable. How could he possibly run off when she couldn't even go a couple of hours without reliving the nightmare that was her imprisonment?

Closing the door behind her, Orihime leaned against the opposite wall, her body sagging with exhaustion.

"She should be asleep for another couple of hours. The speed with which her body metabolizes the sedatives is astonishing. I shouldn't be dosing her more than a couple of times a day, but. . ." her strained voice trailed off and her eyes dropped to the floor.

Without the sedatives, Rukia wouldn't rest and couldn't recover. How often did Aizen have to dose her during his experiments? Did he even bother? Did her fears stem from her mistrust of what was in her IV?

A chill shot through him and Ichigo tried to push the thoughts from his mind as quickly as they appeared.

He needed her to get better faster. Reyes' "goodwill" wasn't long lasting, and while the CAC doctors seemed intent on helping Rukia, he wasn't sure how far he could trust them. Rukia certainly didn't. Every time she saw one of them, she tried to kill them or run. Orihime was the only one Rukia responded well to. Ashido tried to visit when he could but was caught playing politician while Orihime was busy with Rukia.

And Ichigo? Every time she saw him there was nothing but pain.

He flinched, remembering the utter look of despair on her face the last time she saw him.

"She seems better when it's just you," he mumbled bitterly.

Orihime nodded. "She's better with people she knows, it seems."

Ichigo snorted wryly, earning a confused glance. "The moment she sees me she bursts into tears. I'd hardly call that 'better'."

The sight of her tear-streaked face was burned into his eyes, the tracks nearly tattooed on her cheeks, her eyes stained with constant grief. He'd never seen her cry, even when exiled and abandoned by her people, even when her corpse was growing cold as she bled out on the floor of the British Consulate. What did she see when she looked at him? What was it that changed her so dramatically? Was it him? Was it something else - someone else? What the hell did Aizen do to her to break her so terribly?

The scorching heat of rage lit up his chest and raced through his body like a violent explosion. With an enraged growl, he twisted and slammed his fist into the wall, wishing it was Aizen's face that cracked and crumbled under the impact.

Several passing agents stared at him and the damage, and then hurried away when he turned his gaze on them.

Orihime gave him a sympathetic look. "Physically, she's the perfect image of health, but mentally, that's a whole other story. We can only attempt to imagine what was done to her and what is going through her mind. She needs someone to talk to, someone who can help her work through what happened. I've asked Councilor Reyes to call in a specialist to try to speak with her."

Distrust plagued him. Letting another stranger evaluate her, especially in her current state, didn't seem like a good idea.

"What about you?" Ichigo wondered hopefully. "She might talk to you."

The idea didn't seem to sit well with her, as she shifted uncomfortably and shook her head. "Psychology isn't my speciality, and it might be better for her to speak with someone she doesn't know at all. The fear of judgment or failure might convince her to keep certain things to herself - important things."

Not that she was wrong, but Ichigo still didn't like the idea. "You've seen how she reacts to other people. Bringing in another doctor might just push her further away from us."

"I've provided Councilor Reyes with a list of instructions on what the therapist should and shouldn't do based on our observations of her behavior so far. It's clear anyone in a lab coat is viewed as an immediate threat. And anyone who resembles her captors is completely out of the question as well."

Doubt continued to nag at him. Rukia didn't like to share things unless she deemed it necessary. Hell, she still hadn't told him about what happened to her husband, not the whole of it. If she didn't reveal that kind of stuff to those she trusted the most, why would she entrust a complete stranger?

It was difficult to hear, but he picked up the quiet sounds of whimpering coming from Rukia's room. Orihime was tense, listening intently as well, but when the pained sounds were followed only by the sounds of tossing sheets and not strangled screams, they relaxed.

Seeing her struggle every day for the few days was taking its toll. She desperately needed help, and if Orihime thought this was the best bet, then it was worth a shot.

"You really think this will help?"

"It's difficult to say." Orihime pushed herself off the wall and stepped towards him. Putting a hand on his shoulder, she gave him a gentle pat.

"Everyone is different, their situations are different. What helps one person may not help another, at least not in the same way. There's never a 'one size fits all' fix for these kinds of things. And her circumstances are probably some of the most extreme. I'm not saying it's impossible for her to find her way back to us, but her road to recovery will be long and difficult.

"People don't live through something like that and just bounce back in a few weeks. Some don't even bounce back at all. They spend their entire lives followed by that ghost. The important thing is that she has the support she needs, the right people who will be there to help her when she needs help, to understand that at the end of it all, there will be someone new and that that person is still loved."

Orihime stared at him meaningfully, willing him to understand her and what waited for him. In a way, he did. It wasn't the same, but the death of his mother had haunted his family for years, to the point they had to leave behind their home. The death of his own father still caused him to wake up in a cold sweat. A person doesn't get over what happened, only finds a way to cope and move on.

But was that possible for Rukia? Only a few days had passed, but she was still like an injured animal, aware of the help she needed, but too scared to trust anyone except Orihime. It was difficult for him to imagine her ever recovering, ever returning to the woman that he knew.

"Will you stay with her?"

Ichigo stared at Orihime startled and a bit insulted. "What? Of course I will. I'm not leaving her here by herself."

She sighed and gave a sullen shake of her head. "No, I don't mean here in this building at this exact moment. I mean in the future - tomorrow, the day, week, month, year after. Will you stay with her through all of this? Until the end of the road?"

It seemed a ridiculous question. Why would he leave her? After everything they had been through, there was no way he would abandon her now. How could he? He wasn't sure how long it would take, but Aizen was still there. And now that they knew he was no longer immortal, they could finally be rid of him. Like hell he could desert her when they were so close to their revenge. And after that. . .

He couldn't imagine his life without her in it.

There was a great deal of uncertainty swirling around them. There always had been. But at the end of it all, he simply couldn't see a day without her in it.

Seeing the determination in his eyes, Orihime smiled. "Good. It won't be easy. It will take time."

"I'm a vampire," he replied smugly, "I've got all the time in the world."

* * *

 **Author's notes:** Apologies this chapter is so late! My husband and I are getting ready to prepare for a long-awaited (and much needed) vacation.

I know this chapter is qutie a bit shorter than my others. It originally had a whole other section to it, but this just felt like the right place to end this chapter. The group's stay with the CAC spans quite a few days, and mashing them all into one chapter just made it feel like things were being rushed. On the plus side, that should mean that I can still deliver a chapter to you guys while I'm on vacation. I was worried I would have to put things on hold, but I might be able to get something out next week.

I hope you all enjoyed this chapter (as short as it was). Thank you to everyone who read this story, favorited it, and are now following it. And thank you to **NieveDrop, IchiRuki 4vr,** and the **anonymous guest** for the reviews. Please continue to R &R! I really do enjoy hearing from you guys and discussing the chapters with you (at least those who have accounts - sorry guests, I can't PM you back :( ).


	20. Chapter Nineteen

**Author's Soundtrack:  
** Land of All by Woodkid

* * *

Chapter Nineteen

* * *

And he certainly had a lot of time.

Sitting outside of Rukia's room, a constant guard on alert for a rampaging Reyes, Ichigo had reduced himself to reading Orihime's reports back to the FCA. For such a bright and colorful girl, her reports were fairly lackluster. While he hadn't enjoyed the events of the past week, he didn't think it was possible to make them seem so dull. It seemed nothing transitioned well when written into a report. He'd given up on writing them well before they'd left England. Shinji knew if he wanted an update he had to either call Ichigo directly and get an extensively summarized version or review Rukia's work.

Not that her reports were any more interesting to read. They were painfully dry, but she always seemed adept at writing them, including the most minute details. He wasn't sure if she actually enjoyed doing the paperwork, but she was more than willing to do it, finding some sort of meditative calm whenever she worked.

Would she still want to do it? Orihime spoke of there being a "new person" at the end of it all. Would this new person still sit down at her desk and begin the long arduous task of describing a mission's events? It was difficult to imagine Rukia dismissing any part of her duty, even paperwork, no matter what happened in her life. The soothing rhythm of her typing away on a keyboard was a small pleasure she would want to keep - wasn't it?

What else would be different? What small habits would disappear? What new ones would he discover?

And how did he handle them?

Did he take notice? Point them out? Ignore them? Encourage them?

What was the right path? What would lead her back to the woman he saw as an integral part of her his life? Was there a way to get her back?

Did it matter?

Their lives were long, things were bound to be different, people especially. The Rukia he knew wasn't the same one Ashido knew. Change was inevitable.

He wasn't sure what to do, except one thing: stay with her. No matter who was on the other side of that door, she was a part of his life, a part of him. The thought of abandoning her now felt like cutting off a limb. Without it, he would be worthless. Just imagining it made his chest tighten and his heart ache.

He stilled at the muffled sounds of shuffling inside the room.

She was out of bed, pacing. Every couple of hours, when the drugs were beginning to wear off, she would walk about the room. She hated being stationary, locked in a room with no escape - and not because the door was locked. She was frustrated, he could hear it in the heavy step of her bare feet as they hit the linoleum, almost like a child stomping in a fit. The thought made him chuckle.

It was good to hear something besides her painful wails, if only because he felt all the more helpless when she was that far gone. He couldn't give her comfort, couldn't be there for her. The mere sight of him caused her distress. It was infuriating and perhaps the most painful thing - to be relegated to the sidelines where he could only watch others interact with her.

The bond between her and Orihime had grown, Rukia coming to rely on Orihime. Often she searched for her in the small group of doctors that visited her room, relieved when she came.

Ichigo was beginning to dislike Orihime greatly.

The thunderous sounds of heavy combat boots and arguing pulled his attention away from Rukia's room. Glancing up, a swarm of CAC agents, dressed in Reyes' favorite uniform of combat gear, marched down the hall. Reyes and Yasutura were at the head of the pack. No that Reyes ever looked particularly happy, especially after Yasutura broke the news about the the flash drive, but today she looked down right pissed, like a murderous viper ready to strike at the slightest provocation.

He caught her gaze shifting to Rukia's door. He was out of his chair and in front of it in a heartbeat.

Her dark brown eyes narrowed, but Ichigo didn't give under the intense heat aimed at him. He would take the brunt of her attack if it meant keeping her away from Rukia.

"Walk with me," she commanded, tearing her eyes away from him and continuing down the hall.

Ichigo grappled with finding out what had her on edge and leaving Rukia. He didn't dare leave her alone. Eyeing her horde of soldiers, he wasn't sure Reyes was giving him much choice in the matter. None of her agents had moved, not daring to get between their leader and him.

Yasutura, the only one in the group that was normal to him, gave him a nod. It was just a nod, but it implied there was nothing nefarious behind her actions. At least, that's how Ichigo chose to interpret it. Unlike Reyes, Yasutura seemed just as concerned for Rukia's health as Ichigo and the others. He stopped by frequently, asking him or Orihime for an update. He even seemed to be sneaking Rukia food, much to Orihime's annoyance.

Sending a message to Ashido for him to cover the door, Ichigo spared Rukia's room one last glance before following after Reyes.

"I'm taking a team to the facility," she stated when he finally caught up. She ignored him as he counted the heads of the agents to make sure no one stayed behind. "I was hoping we would have an opportunity to get more information out of your councilor, but it appears that is unlikely. The American is insistent we leave her be until after the psychologist speaks with her."

What little jealousy Ichigo felt for Orihime quickly melted into gratitude. "Good."

Reye's eyes snapped to him. He held her gaze, refusing to back down. Why she thought he would feel differently was beyond him. His loyalty was to Rukia and his sisters, no one else.

"We're hoping to find another copy of the data and rescue any survivors who are not too far gone. Although the chances of us walking away with anything beneficial is unlikely." She gave him a meaningful glare. "They have a few day's head start, and AI zen isn't a fool."

As much as Ichigo didn't like Reyes, he had to give her credit, she cared about her people. Since retrieving Rukia, Ichigo hadn't spared a single thought for those left behind. It was good someone was going to go back for them. And yet, here she was, wasting time speaking with him. To top it off, she was doing a piss poor job of hiding her anger and resentment towards him.

She blamed Ichigo and the others for the destruction of the flash drive, failing to see that the results would have been the same no matter what happened. It needed to be destroyed, and it certainly wasn't their fault she chose to delay sending people back. She was looking for a scapegoat. As long as they continued treating Rukia and left her alone, Reyes could blame him for her misfortune all she wanted.

That didn't mean he had to take it with a smile.

"I'm assuming there's a reason you're telling me all of this."

Reyes either wasn't affected or chose to ignore the hard edge to his voice. "You and the Japanese agent will come with us. We need as many eyes and weapons as possible."

The order was more tempting than he wanted to admit. The cries and screams of the people behind those steel doors coming back to him with a force. But there was something - someone - far more powerful, far louder, and that same someone had him hesitating. Although she clearly didn't want to see him, and she would have wanted him to go, he couldn't leave her. There was no telling how long they would be gone, and Orihime couldn't be with her all the time.

"Thanks, but no thanks. I'll be staying behind."

"It wasn't a request." Reyes stopped and glowered at him, her stance intimidating as she wielded her authority like a weapon.

Ichigo wanted to reminder her that he was not one of her agents and was under no obligation to obey her orders, but he needed to tread carefully. Rukia's rank and Orihime's constant reminders of such, kept Reyes in line, but she would only be pushed so far, and Rukia wasn't ready to leave yet.

"Rukia is my top priority and as her bodyguard, I cannot leave her. Ashido will be of more useful to you, although I can't speak for him."

Judging by her deepened scowl, she'd already made the same demand of Ashido, and gotten a similar response. Ichigo tried to suppress his amused smirk.

"It looks like you're taking most of your forces. They're all highly trained, I'm sure you'll be fine if you don't have a couple more people with you. With most of them gone, it would be good for us to remain behind, in case Aizen managed to track us here."

The tightened muscles in her throat indicated it wasn't Aizen she was thinking of, and Ichigo felt his patience begin to slip, along with his facade. He wasn't sure what she was planning, but he was more than happy to get in her way.

"Very well," she said with a huff. "There are a few agents who will remain behind to secure the building, but I understand your concerns."

Calling out to her agents in Spanish, she motioned for them to move out. He watched intently as they continued their march down the hall. When they turned the corner, he took out his phone and made a phone call. He needed to be sure he wasn't the only one keeping Reyes in line.

" _Yo, Ichigo. What can I do for you?"_ Shinji answered on the second ring.

"Skirting your duties again?"

" _I have no idea what you're talking about,"_ he replied innocently.

Given the apparent importance of the meetings Shinji was supposed to be attending, it was surprising the number of times he actually answered his phone. Rukia would have chewed his ear off, but Ichigo appreciated him making her a priority.

"Reyes just stormed off in a fit."

" _That woman is never in a good mood when I speak with her."_

"I'm surprised you're speaking with her directly at all. Shouldn't that be Lisa's job?"

" _And miss the opportunity to rile that woman's feathers? Lord no."_

"She wants to speak to Rukia."

" _Since Rukia's current physician has suggested such a thing is not recommended, she'll have to be disappointed."_

Another reason to be grateful for Orihime. Not only was she fighting Reyes herself, she was arming Shinji as well.

" _How is she?"_ Shinji's tone was somber.

"You've read Orihime's reports," Ichigo replied stiffly.

" _Yeah, but that only tells me so much. You see her."_

It was true. What Orihime typed versus reality was completely different. The reports mentioned Rukia's struggles with dealing with the doctors, getting enough sleep, drinking enough blood and eating enough food, but seeing it was another matter entirely. Seeing the fear in her eyes whenever someone walked into the room, that brief moment of utter terror flashing across her features, the slight tremor in her body whenever someone got too close with a needle. Hearing the sounds of her suffering when she woke from a nightmare, the pained whimpering as she slept - words were not enough.

"She's. . ." He couldn't think of anything to say. She wasn't better, not really. She didn't scream as much, but he was certain that had more to do with her determination to keep people from worrying. In a way, he supposed that was something reminiscent of her old self, but it wasn't what he wanted. It was just her taking on everything, even when he was sitting right outside her door.

" _I see,"_ Shinji replied with a heavy sigh. " _I'll see what I can do about Reyes. You focus on helping Rukia in anyway you can."_

As if he planned on doing anything else.

Hanging up, Ichigo headed back to her room. When he didn't see Ashido standing guard, he froze and immediately listened. There was a muffled voice inside the room. It was hurried, harsh, but quiet. And distinctly male. The beast stirred, baring its teeth and urging him forward - and he listened. Recently, they seemed to be on the same wave length, and he was okay with that. It made things easier, not having to fight with it constantly.

Reaching for the door, Ichigo prepared to fight off whoever was inside. The knob turned and he took a step back as Ashido stepped through. Their eyes met briefly before Ashido cast a glare into the room and stepped outside. As soon as the door was closed, he gave Ichigo a look that requested they speak, and headed down the hall. Ichigo hesitated to leave the door unguarded, but Ashido stopped at the end of the hall, keeping it within eyesight.

"What's going on?" Ichigo demanded, none too pleased with the tone he'd heard coming from Ashido.

"I wanted to try speaking with her. Orihime's been such a mother hen, it's been nearly impossible to get near her recently."

"And you decided snapping at her was the way to go?"

Ashido looked grim. "I let my frustration get the better of me. It was a method that worked when we first met, but this time is different."

Ichigo's anger with Ashido deflated and he felt the inklings of hope begin to fade. Ashido was much older, more experienced, and yet he was just as lost as Ichigo when it came to handling the situation with Rukia. If he couldn't help her, how could Ichigo hope to?

"At least then she was angry - at herself, at the world, at Kaien. With the rage that was brewing in her, you could have pitted her against the devil himself and she would have come out on top." He chuckled, reminiscing about a past Ichigo knew so little of. "I knew how to work with that. I could take that anger and focus it, hone it into something else."

A wry smile spread across his lips before crumbling away. "She'll get there. The anger will come, but right now, she's more lost than anything. She would rather stare out her window then talk to me."

Ashido sighed, and rubbed his eyes. "Have you spoken to her yet?"

"You know I haven't," Ichigo said with a scowl.

He looked disappointed. "You should, while the drugs aren't affecting her."

Ichigo scoffed, running his hands through his hair. He wanted to see her, talk to her. Hell, he would take her staring out the window and ignoring him if that's all she gave him. Given his track record, she was more likely to break down and cry. The sight of her agonizing grief was too much for him to take.

"I don't think I can handle seeing her like that again. Not right now."

Ashdio was quiet for a moment before speaking. "I understand where you're coming from, but what you have to remember is that this isn't about you. This is about her. We don't know what happened in that room, what Aizen said and did to her. There are no scars on her body, but that doesn't mean anything. We need to be there for her, to help her in any way she needs us to, even if she doesn't tell us how."

It was like being lectured by Orihime all over again. As if he didn't know he needed to be there for her. He wanted to be there for her, but he could do little more than stand guard and protect her from a distance. How could he help her when being near her only seemed to cause her more pain? Why couldn't they give him useful advice instead of useless platitudes?

"You think I don't know that?" Ichigo snapped viciously, the last of his patience evaporating. "I want to be in that room, sitting beside her and helping her, but you don't see it. You don't see the way she stares at me and crumbles as if she's failed, as if there's no hope left in the world, as if. . ." He searched for a word to describe what it was he saw so often when she looked at him through the tears. It wasn't just grief, it was something else, something more painful. "As if she's begging for forgiveness."

Just saying it was like a lightning strike to his heart. What did she have to apologize for? Being captured? Being tortured? Not being the same? How was any of that her fault? How could she have stopped any of it? The only one at fault was Aizen. He was to blame, not her.

Ichigo clenched his jaw, struggling to swallow the lump growing in his throat. He wanted to look her in the eye and tell her there was nothing to forgive, but how could he when he couldn't get near her? "How can I help her when all I do is cause her more pain?"

Ashido was silent. Ichigo had expected some sort of rebuke. Part of him was disappointed. A good fight would have relieved some of his pent up stress. Instead, Ashido studied him with understanding and pity, as if he was seeing a reflection of himself from another time. Maybe he was, but it didn't matter. It didn't help them. It didn't help her.

Cursing, Ichigo turned and paced the hall. He hated feeling so helpless. There had to be something he could do, something that could be done to help her without requiring his immediate presence.

Shouting and slamming doors echoed through the hall. Medical personnel dove into open doorways as Reyes came storming down the hall, her entourage following close on her heels. A panicked Orihime was frantically trying to get her to stop, trying everything but grabbing onto the woman and physically pulling her to a stop. Shooting Ichigo and Ashido a look of desperation, they acted immediately. Standing side by side, they now blocked Reyes' path to Rukia's room. Hissing, the councilor came to an abrupt stop.

"Step aside," she growled menacingly.

"What's the problem, Agent Inoue," Ashido asked, keeping his eyes on Reyes. The councilor gnashes her teeth as he blatantly ignored her command.

"She wants to 'speak' with Rukia." The concern lining Orihime's voice told them Reyes intended to do more than talk. Both men tensed and Ichigo felt the beast reel in anger. He almost lashed out at the councilor, but Ichigo managed to reign it in.

"An interrogation?" Ichigo snarled. "She's not even in any condition to talk with those she knows and you want to question her? Like hell I'm going to let that happen, especially before she speaks with the psychologist."

"I don't give a damn what you want," Reyes ground out through clenched teeth. "She's the only witness left and I want to know what was in that facility."

"What the hell are you talking about?" Ashido demanded.

"The facility has been completely destroyed," she spat. "We didn't even make it out of the parking lot before we got a call from one of our teams spying on the building. There was a large explosion. All that's left is a fiery crater. There is no more information. No prisoners. No witnesses. No suspects. Just her. She's all that's left, and I _will_ know what she does."

"She was a _prisoner_ ," Ashido reminded her sharply. "What kind of information do you think she could possibly give you? Do you think Aizen was stupid enough to reveal his plans to her?"

"I don't know! But she's our only option, and if you don't get out of my way, I'll have you all detained and thrown in cells until I'm finished with her."

Feeling his grip on the beast slip and baring his teeth, Ichigo grabbed the hilt of his sword. "If you think I'm going to let you waltz in there and start berating her beau se you've got some goddamn bug up your ass, you've got another thing coming."

"You little son of a-" Reyes charged forward, hand on her own weapon, a saber with a wicked curve, but stalled when Orihime planted herself between them.

"Councilor Reyes, I understand your frustration-"

"You don't understand shit!"

"However!"Orihime continued with a vicious snap. "Given your precarious situation, I recommend you take some time to consider your position before taking another step or issuing another command.

Reyes studied Orihime cautiously, evaluating the weight of her words. Shinji was one phone call away, and Ichigo wasn't sure what impact the FCA would have, but the threat of their involvement was enough to stall Reyes.

After a few tense seconds, Reyes took a deep breath and released her sword.

Orihime nodded in approval. "Analysis of the blood sample your doctor took from Councilor Kuchiki revealed a number of drugs in her system. Aizen more than likely kept her on a specific cocktail to serve his own means during her imprisonment. The likelihood of her remembering any details beyond her cell walls is unlikely. And, anything she does recall is more than likely some twisted, nightmarish form of reality, and would be of no use to you."

Reyes didn't look convinced, leading Orihime to offer a suggestion. "Feel free to speak with Dr. Garcia if you'd like. He'll confirm my findings."

Yasutura tapped Reyes' shoulder and mumbled something in Spanish. It was nearly imperceptible, but the muscles in her shoulder loosened.

"Very well. I'll leave this for tonight." Motioning to her agents, they turned and left. Yasutura gave them a slight nod before the team of agents was gone.

As soon as they were out of earshot, Orihime released a heavy breath and turned to them with a smile. "Well, that was fun."

"If that's what you want to call it," Ashido remarked, sneering at the now empty hall. "I'm honestly surprised she didn't try to pull this stunt sooner."

"The British and American Chancellor's have been keeping them in line, but the loss of the facility seems to have forced her hand. Without any other witnesses, Rukia is the only remaining connection. Whatever was on that flash drive has Reyes desperate. She's grasping at any straws she can get her hands on, even if they aren't viable ones."

"So you didn't lie?" Ichigo asked.

Orihime's smile wilted. "No. Even after her recovery, there were still trace amounts of the drugs in her system. The fire should have burned everything, but with her blood and some of the ash residue we gathered from her body, there was enough trace evidence left to get a decent picture."

Ichigo tightened his hand into a fist and pushed past the ever present desire to dismember Aizen slowly and methodically. "Do you think she'll actually take Rukia and interrogate her?"

The thought alone had Ichigo's skin crawling, the uncomfortable sensation racing a crossing his skin and leaving bruising scorch marks. If it wasn't safe anymore, he needed to get Rukia out - and fast. Nelliel and Grimmjow hadn't been spotted since the night of her rescue. If they were still in the area, he might be able to convince them to help them escape.

"Not right now," Orihime replied, offering a small smile. "Rukia's rank continues to protect her. Should Councilor Reyes be brazen enough to try anything, she would have the full wrath of the British Council coming down on her head. Despite his recent rise to power, Chancellor Shinji has already secured a name for himself, though others would deny it. And the FCA is more than willing to back him in this cause. She is still under our protection after all, and," the corners of her lips twisted into a frightening smile, "we don't particularly like it when we are crossed."

"We're all very well aware you yanks like to flex your muscles," Ashido said with a disapproving sigh, but Ichigo was certain he was just as grateful as Ichigo for their support.

Orihime gave Ashido a playful wink, but her levity did little to easy Ichigo's concerns. Their "protection" didn't save Rukia from an immediate threat. He was in desperate need of a Plan B. Should Reyes decide she was more than willing to take on Shinji and the FCA, he needed to be sure he could escape with Rukia. Until then, he didn't dare leave Rukia's room unguarded, and returned to his post.

* * *

 **Author's Notes:** One more chapter from Ichigo's perspective. I'm sure you can see why I broke this away from the previous chapter. In the next one we'll be jumping back into Rukia's perspective. I hope you're all prepared…

I'm hoping to have it posted on time, but I'll be in the middle of a road trip so I'm not sure. Some of the hotels we're staying at have free wifi and some do not. I'm working from my iPad that doesn't have a data plan, so no internet = no post :(. Fingers crossed!

Thank you for everyone who keeps reading and enjoying this story! I really hope you all keep loving this story, even though I'm being kind of cruel to Rukia. Thank to those of you who left reviews as well - **MugetsuIchigo, IchiRuki 4vr, NieveDrop, Kneegrow Goku** (I'm so glad you enjoy the music!) **, Yesmin,(x2), any anonymous guests**. Please keep R &Ring. I love hearing from you guys, and I promise it isn't because I enjoy your tears (kind of).

P.S. Apologies for any errors you find. My usual computer has an online editor I use to catch some basic mistakes and my iPad doesn't have access to it. I may come back later and do a clean up.


	21. Chapter Twenty

**Author's Soundtrack:  
** Broken by Olafur Arnalds

* * *

 **Chapter Twenty**

* * *

Sounds drifted from the hall like steady, rolling waves on a beach, washing over her with soothing calm. Closing her eyes, Rukia listened to the muffled conversations, laughter, and even arguments, and she found she could breath a little easier. She couldn't understand a single word they said, but that didn't matter. They were a reminder that she wasn't still trapped in that unending nightmare. Amongst them, she could sometimes hear his voice; deep, rough, even, as he whispered quietly in an attempt not to disturb her. She tried to make out what he was saying, to hear what was the center of his attention, but in the end it didn't matter. He was there. He was real.

When she first saw him, in the remaining cloudy haze of recovery, she thought he was just another one of Aizen's tricks - a new test to shatter what little of her sanity remained. He'd managed to recreate Kaien, why not him as well? Why not take what little she had left in the world and twist it into something monstrous?

But he hadn't been a fake. He was her Ichigo. He had touched her, held her gently to him, guided her back to reality and built an anchor.

And it was a heavy force, yanking her from the sky and crushing her against the surface. Their reunion should have been euphoric, joyful. It should have brought a smile to her lips and relieved a weight from her shoulders. But the nightmares followed her, whispering in her ear, reminding her of what she had done, of what it meant - what it made her.

He would never forgive her.

The memories came back to her like a flood. The sensations easily recalled as if they were happening in the moment. Whatever Aizen had dosed her with did little to distort her moment of weakness. She could still feel the skin beneath her fingers, the crack of flesh as her teeth punctured it, the desperate relief as blood filled her mouth, and the fluttering panicked heart before it ceased to be.

The air grew thick, her chest tight as every breath was a pained gasp. Tossing the sheets aside, she slipped out of bed and began to pace. Each breath was timed with a step.

Right, in.

Left, out.

Right, in.

Left, out.

She should have been stronger.

Should have resisted.

Should have died.

Except she couldn't.

A wry laugh slipped through her lips and she swiped away a stray tear.

There was so much she should have done - _could_ have done, but in the end, what had happened happened. She knew there was no changing the past. No point in reliving every moment of what could have or should have been. Too many times she'd been in this same position. She knew what she was supposed to do, what she was supposed to feel. And yet, not matter how many times she told herself it wasn't her fault, that she did what she had to to survive, it all fell flat. It meant nothing. It didn't ease the pain in her heart or push the memories away.

A sob broke through the tremulous walls she was attempting to build, and more tears began to fall.

The door opened, and she hurried to wipe them away. Whether it was Orihime, the doctors, or Ashido, she didn't want them to see her broken down again. She was tired of appearing like a fragile doll, fussed over like she might break at any moment.

She faced the window, her back to whoever was intruding on her space. Taking a deep breath, she prepared herself for Orihime's gentle interview, the doctors' prodding, Ashido's glaring. It would be easier if it was the doctors. They'd come up with a route. They would approach her by declaring each move they would make, she would refrain from punching them in the face or throat, and Orihime would give her a dose at the end to help her sleep through the nightmares.

Except it wasn't the doctors who she saw in the reflection of the glass, standing in the doorway, watching her.

Her first instinct was to turn and face him, but she fought that desire with every ounce of her being. If she looked at him, stared into those warm honey eyes, she would fall apart again. And she was so tired of falling apart. But watching him walk away, torn and dejected, wasn't any easier. She longed to reach out to him and pull him close. The peace she felt in his arms was something she hadn't felt in so long, but she had no right to it. Not with him. Not when she was every bit the monster he hated.

Tearing her eyes away from his reflection, she focused on keeping her emotions in check. She would not cause him any more pain than she already had.

"Here."

His voice was gruff and much closer than before. She could feel the heat of him behind her. Opening her eyes, she saw a box of tissues. She stared at the soft blanket of white, too shocked to do anything but reach out and take one.

"I. . ." She looked up at his reflection, his head bent as he considered what to say to her. It was somehow easier, looking at him through the window. His face was faded in the glass, difficult to make out; his eyes, a ghostly reflection. "Orihime has decided on a psychologist. She should be arriving in the next day or so."

Rukia scoffed derisively. What good would a shrink do her? The last thing she wanted to do was sit uncomfortably in a room, being stared at as some uptight woman in a suit waiting for her to spill her deep dark secrets and silently judge her. And what was the point? There was nothing that could be done to change the situation. Nothing that could be done to fix what happened. It was in the past and it needed to stay there, out of the light.

Ichigo stiffened behind her, his eyes wide with shock at hearing her snide chuckle. She wished she was amused by the reaction instead of hurt, but she hadn't set a very good precedent.

"I have no interest in speaking with a shrink," she stated.

Ichigo was uncertain, caught between leaving, while she was still holding it together, and staying. She wasn't sure how she felt about it either. Every time she looked at him she couldn't help but think about how that gaze might change once he knew the truth. She couldn't bear the thought of him seeing her just like he saw Aizen.

But she missed him. She didn't know when it happened, but Ichigo had become a pillar in her life, a support she didn't realize was there, hiding behind a wall of obligation, and one she needed. She'd felt his absence acutely and longed to remedy it.

She needed him, and yet couldn't be around him.

God, she was a mess.

"I hated speaking to psychologists when I was younger." He was choosing to stay, and a small part of her was glad for it, relieved. "I always felt so awkward sitting on that big chair, staring at that doctor and wondering what good talking to him would really do. He couldn't bring my mom back. Yuzu and dad cried enough for the whole family. I was strong. I could take it. I didn't need help."

His voice quivered, the wound of his mother's death still aching. She clutched her arms tightly to keep from turning and grabbing hold of him, afraid that once she touched him she would lose all the strength she'd been building up.

"It does help," he stated. "Talking to someone, even if it's a complete stranger."

Was that better or worse? If they knew nothing about her, would they understand? Would they understand her? Aizen? What she did? What was done to her? What she was forced to do?

She shivered and tightened the hold on her arms.

"The last thing I want to do is remember what happened there. So unless your doctor can remove these memories entirely, I have no interest." The words were sharp and biting. She didn't mean for them to be, but the tension in her chest was growing. The strands of her control were beginning to fray, and she struggled to keep them together.

Staying here, doing nothing but sitting in the dark, wasn't going to help. Action needed to be taken. Getting back to work, doing something, _anything_ , would be better than this.

Turning from the window, she went to a narrow dresser in the corner of the room. Yanking the drawer open, she cursed when she found it empty. This whole time she'd been stuck in the medical garb they'd given her, and she'd come with no clothes of her own. A startling chill ran through her body before she could quickly suppress it.

Every emotion, memory, or thought concerning that hell hole would be bottled up and buried deep into the recesses of her mind. It wasn't a good plan, by any stretch of the imagination, but it would have to do. She refused to be that man's prisoner any longer. She refused to give him any more control over her. She was free, and the first thing she would do was destroy him.

"What are you doing?" Ichigo sounded panicked and confused, but she didn't want to meet his gaze and explain. She didn't want to see the doubt and worry there, afraid they would only tear at the resolve she was slowly gathering.

"Where's Orihime? I need clothes."

"Rukia, stop."

Ignoring him with a wave of her hand, she made her way to the door. If he wouldn't find Orihime, she would do it herself. As soon as she opened it, it closed again with a heavy force, jerking the handle out of her hand. He held the door in place, his arm hovering above her like a steel beam.

"What are you doing?" She demanded, though her voice was quiet.

"I could ask you the same thing." His voice was steady now, almost angry.

"I'm going to get clothes, I'm going to get dressed, and I'm going to hunt that son of a bitch down. We've wasted enough time here as it is." She was pleased with the tone she struck, it held an edge, an anger that had been subdued for so long. There was a spark of life, an ignition, and she would nurture it until it was a raging fire.

"Orihime needs to give the all clear."

She hissed her displeasure. "I appreciate Orihime's efforts, but I do not need her permission to leave this place."

""Then I-"

The anger erupted in her chest. What would _he_ do? What right did _he_ have to decide what she could and couldn't do? She rounded on him, snarling and baring her teeth in a show of force and aggression.

" _You_? You _what_?" She dared him to continue with his train of thought. His mouth was shut tight, jaw clenched, and neck muscles working. "Need I remind you that I am your superior? You do what I tell you, not the other way around!"

The moment the words were out the anger evaporated, leaving her feeling cold and empty. She stared at him blankly. Theirs was not a relationship of superior and subordinate. It was a partnership, one made of trust and mutual hatred for a man who destroyed their lives. How many times had she told him as much? Now she challenged that, threatened it with her growing frustration. But wasn't it he who challenged it first? Wasn't it he who didn't trust her?

He leaned closer, his voice rumbling in her ears as he watched her with undying determination.

"You're right. I'm your bodyguard, and as such, it is my responsibility to remain by your side and look after you, even if you don't agree."

The words shouldn't have stung as much as they did. She brought this upon herself. In drawing that line, she made his position clear, and he was doing the same. This wasn't the partnership it once was. He wasn't her friend. He wasn't. . . Setting her jaw, she was determined to lay in the bed she'd made. In the end, this path was for the best. Aizen was the only thing that truly connected them. Once he was gone, there was no reason for them to remain together. Ichigo had his family to worry about. There was no room for her.

In the end, this would make that final goodbye that much easier.

"Then, I relieve you of your command." She struggled to say it, her throat tightening as she spoke. Her eyes fell to his chest, refusing to look into his eyes. "You can continue hunting Aizen with me. I will not take your revenge from you."

The silence that followed was deafening. It swelled against her ears, accentuated by the heavy pounding of his heart - or was it her own? Against her will, her eyes sought his face, wondering what she would find there. Would there be anger? Acceptance? Disinterest?

The tears rolled down her cheeks with what she saw. There was certainly anger, and a heart-wrenching pain that was like the twisting of a knife, but mostly unmoving resolve. Every muscle in his body was tense, as if he was commanding every fiber of his being to remain in his control as he made a silent promise with those honey-colored eyes.

"Fine. I am no longer your bodyguard. Now, I am your friend. My place is by your side, looking after you, even when you think you don't need it."

She knew the power of words, their ability to send people into a frenzy, to soothe wounds, to touch a heart. These weakened her knees, pulling the world from beneath her. He caught her around the waist and held her up, a manifestation of his vow.

"I failed you once. I won't do it again."

She choked on a sob and grabbed hold of him, wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling him close. It was pathetic. A few pretty words and she was putty in his hands, but they were words she needed to hear. He wasn't here because of duty, because of necessity, but because he truly cared about her.

When he learned the truth, it would make things that much harder.

Her fingers dug into the fabric of his shirt as she clung to him.

That was a worry for another day.

* * *

 **Author's Notes:** I am beyond sorry! I know this chapter is really late. I didn't have access to the internet to post it on the original date, then I got really sick the following week, and this weekend has been fairly busy. To top it off, this chapter is pretty short. I wanted it to go on longer, but after rewriting the whole damn thing, I feel like this is the more natural place to stop. Plus I don't think my heart could take it DX.

Thanks to everyone who read this story, those who favorited and followed, and those who left me reviews: **NieveDrop, IchiRuki 4vr,** Yesmin, and the anonymous guest! Please R&R! I'd really like to know how you felt about this chapter.


	22. Chapter Twenty One

**Author's Soundtrack:**

So Close (feat. Arnor Dan) by Olafur Arnalds

* * *

 **Chapter Twenty One**

* * *

She was drowning.

Water filled her lungs with each desperate gasp of breath. The frigid torrents poured into her until there was no space left for air. Heaviness settled into her limbs and pulled her deeper into the abyss. Still, she fought for breath, struggling to the reach the surface, to feel the gentle brush of wind on her face and the bittersweet burning of air touching her lungs. But no relief came. As her vision began to fade, black clouds lining her vision, she could see emotionless orbs of ochre watching with morbid fascination, lips curved in mild amusement, and she knew there was no escape.

There was no escape, and she let the darkness take her completely.

Slowly, Rukia opened her eyes. The darkness still surrounded her, and for a brief moment, fear gripped her. She was back in her cell, chained to the floor, discarded until there was another appalling idea that popped into his head.

A warm hand grasped her own tightly, the strong fingers gripping her firmly as if to hold on to her, to pull her from the depths. Taking a slow and steady breath, she focused on that warmth and let it spread over her, chasing away the chills of her nightmare. Silently, she reminded herself where she was, who she was with, repeating the facts like a life-saving mantra, and clutched at the anchor that was now her sanity.

Ichigo had been ready to leave, to give her space, solitude, but she didn't want them. Every time she woke up and she was alone, the nightmares hounded her until someone came and turned on a light, but in those moments before someone arrived, she was back in that place, lost once again.

She hadn't told him about the hauntings, the terror that gripped her in the darkness, but she didn't have to.

When she held onto him, kept him from leaving, he understood and stayed without question.

Sitting in one of the chairs, he remained by her bedside, watching over her until she fell asleep. If she woke up, he was there, ready and waiting to remind her that she was safe, that he was there for her. The first time she woke up screaming he was there for her immediately, offering her the comfort of his strong arms and steady heartbeat. Whispering soothing words to her until she stopped shaking. When she fell asleep, he was holding her hand, giving her a smile that was both sad and supportive. He would stay with her and be there when she woke, that was the promise he made to her.

His presence didn't stop the nightmares. Every time she closed her eyes she still died. Every time she woke she was still panicked. But the remnant sensations didn't cling to her so tightly.

Curling herself around their joined hands, the phantoms began to vanish and breathing became easier. After a moment, she looked up into his stilling sleeping face, studying his stoic features in the dimmed moonlight. He looked surprisingly peace, and she was grateful she hadn't jolted him awake again.

He was so young and was taking on so much. It was wrong of her to take advantage of him, to rely so heavily on him when he had enough of his own problems to deal with. But without him, she was certain she would lose what little of herself remained.

Her fingertips explored his palm, traveling down his wrist where she felt his pulse, slow with sleep. When this was all over, she swore to release him. Though he was no longer duty bound to her, she knew that in some ways he was still honor bound. Friendship or no, she knew he felt some kind of obligation towards her. After Aizen's death, she would assure him he could move on with his life without having to worry about her. His sisters still needed him.

Pressing his hand to her ear, she listened to the comforting rhythm of his heart. Slow. Solid. Sure.

Real.

Taking a deep breath, she timed her breathing his is. In. Out. It was almost enough to lull her back to sleep.

Almost.

Knowing what waited for her behind closed eyes was enough to keep her awake. Instead, she would plan. Without the sedatives, she could feel her powers creeping in the corners of her mind. They tried to save her once before, perhaps there was a way for them to work together and end this once and for all. Starrk's people had been spotted in the area. Perhaps he would still be willing to train her. But with the CAC watching their every move, making contact at this point wasn't a good idea. They would need to wait. Until that time, she would continue to evaluate her powers on her own.

First, she would need to make a connection with them. Up until now, they only manifested on their own. Was it possible for her to summon them on her own?

More experimentation was needed.

A deep chill ran through her. Without a doubt, given more time, Aizen would have certainly turned his attention to her abilities. He'd done little to hide his curiosity, his hums of intrigue loud enough for her to hear, even in her drug-induced state. What were the limits? Were the abilities different depending on the person? Could someone outside the family line receive them - even if temporary? How powerful were they? Were there any side effects? Did their potency-

Her mind seized and she was leaning over the other side of the bed in an instant.

Thankfully, she didn't miss the bin this time. Reaching for a tissue from the nightstand, she wiped her mouth and cursed quietly. Thinking like him - it was too much.

The mattress dipped and a hand rubbed soothing circles on her back. The heat of his touch seeped through her shirt and helped calm her.

"You all right?"

Scoffing in irritation, she climbed out of bed and went to the bathroom. As she washed her mouth out, she scolded herself. He was only worried about her, and yet she responded by sniping at and mocking him. What was the point in hiding behind a wall of anger? He had seen her grief, seen her weak and exposed. What could would striking out at him do?

Leaning on the sink, she studied her appearance in the mirror. There was nothing different. She wasn't thin, there were no circles, no wrinkles, no scars. Her healing hid everything that had been done.

Why couldn't she recover from this like her body? It should have been easy. What was this, if not just another dark chapter in her life? Turning the page should be simple enough, and yet, she was stuck, trapped in this one spot in her life like there was nothing else.

Scowling in disgust at her weakness, she turned away from the mirror and headed back into the room. Ichigo was sitting on the bed, watching her carefully.

"What?" Standing hesitantly in the doorway, she eyed him suspiciously. She hated the way he was looking at her. She felt bare, like all of her was laid out for him to see, nothing hidden.

And she had so much to hide.

Shaking his head, he slid off the bed and approached her, stopping when he was standing directly in front of her. Anxious, her eyes searched the room for something else to focus on, lest he see the truth of her atrocities in her eyes. She would need to tell him eventually. She couldn't live her life keeping this to herself, but right now it was too soon. Now that she was slowly climbing out of the depths, she couldn't bear to lose the last of her grip.

Gently, he caressed a stray piece of hair before tucking it behind her ear.

"I know it's too soon," he began cautiously, "the wounds too fresh, but I want you to know you can talk to me. I'm probably far from the best choice. I don't know if I can help you or offer you any sort of advice, but I'll listen." His fingers brushed the skin under her chin, tipping her head up and forcing her to look at him. "To anything."

Almost.

She almost spilled it all out on the floor along with her heart. Thankfully, she managed to keep it together. Instead, she gave him a small smile of appreciation, reaching up and clasping his hand.

"For now, this is all I need."

She could read the disappointment in his eyes, the doubt that lingered there, but he didn't push.

God she was being unfair.

Taking her hand, he pulled her back to the bed, tucking the sheets around her and sitting back in his chair. She could feel the distance she had created and she hated it. She missed that warmth he had provided like a drug. Holding out her hand, she waited for him to take it again.

He did so without hesitation, giving it a gentle squeeze.

But it wasn't enough. The warmth didn't spread beyond her hand, and she felt the chill settle in her bones. She'd grown spoiled and wanted more, but she needed to draw a line somewhere. Eventually, she would need to detach herself from him. If she continued to rely too heavily on him, she would never be able to let him go. This would be enough. She would make sure of it.

"I'm sorry."

His words were followed by his grip tightening on her hand. There was no feigning confusion. What else could he possibly have to apologize for? Looking up, she stared into deep pools of honey, seeing a mixture of emotions eating away at him. She may have suffered the worst of it, but she wasn't the only one affected by what happened.

"The one to blame is Aizen. No you," she told him sternly. "You did what you could. I certainly didn't help matters."

The words sounded more hollow than she wanted, a band-aid on a gaping wound, but it was the truth. Ichigo couldn't have stopped Kaien, predicted Aizen's every move. Those who had nearly 200 years on him hadn't seen it, even when it stared them in the face. But she understood how he felt, the responsibility for their actions. It was too much, especially for him.

"It doesn't matter. I should have stopped him." Through clenched teeth, he shifted his gaze from her eyes to her neck. The memory was barely there, but she recalled the feeling of Kaien taking hold of her head and twisting, the slight pop and snap of her neck breaking. It was a small moment of pain, buried under a mountain of other calamities, but it had been the lynchpin. "He still took you. Still hurt you."

Resting on her elbow, she reached out and touched his cheek. "You did what you could, and as quickly as you could."

"It wasn't fast enough."

"No," she admitted, her tone dipping. "It wasn't."

The words hurt, she could see it in his eyes as they refocused on her face. The pained gaze was like a stab to the heart with a murderous twist. Sitting upright, she brought her other hand to his cheek, framing his face and pulling it towards hers. Pressing their foreheads together, she kept her eyes locked with his. Since the beginning, they had stumbled through the chaos and tragedy together, and they would continue that way until it was finished.

"You came for me. That's what matters."

"But-"

It was stupid and rash, but she reacted instinctively, pressing her lips to his and silencing his argument.

Saying it was a random impulse would be a lie. It was a feeling she had dismissed for quite some time, knowing it couldn't last. When the things that bound them together were gone, they would drift apart, just like with Ashido.

When he did nothing, she knew she had crossed another line. He knew the limits of their relationship and didn't dare press forward. It stung, but it was for the best.

Regret sinking in, she broke the kiss, releasing her hold on his face and considering what type of excuse to come up with. Perhaps simply telling him it was to shut him up would suffice.

But Ichigo curled his fingers around the back of her neck and pulled her to him, capturing her lips with his. Her kiss had been a simple thing, stiff and awkward, but Ichigo's? His lips moved with desperate passion intent on conquering. He was claiming her as his own, caressing and feeling as if there would be no other opportunity as if this was their last moment on Earth. And she met him with the same fervor.

When his hands slipped beneath her shirt and skimmed deliciously up her back, she gasped with pleasure, only to have it muffled as he reclaimed her lips.

It was wrong. He didn't know everything, and once he did she knew he would hate her. He would feel deceived, and she couldn't blame him. Perhaps that was why she clung so desperately to him, embraced him and his exploratory lips without further consideration. She would take what he would give her before he was no longer her's to have.

A solid knock on the door drew them both to a halting stop. His hands were achingly perched on her hips, her own dangerously close to the hem of his pants. Her heart was pounding in her chest, ready to burst from anticipation and dread, but another knock made it impossible to continue.

A displeased grumble rumbled through Ichigo as he ripped himself away from her and went to the door. She was certain if it was another doctor coming to take more blood, to poke and prod her like some sort of odd relic they found buried in the earth, he would rip them apart. She wasn't entirely certain she wouldn't do the same. But, a small voice in the back of her mind wondered, wasn't this for the best? Wasn't it better they stopped before things went too far?

A part of her wanted to silence that voice.

The feminine gasp that followed as Ichigo tore open the door indicated it wasn't a routine visit. Curious, Rukia tried to get a better look at who was at the door.

Ichigo stood in the doorway, his arm pressed against the frame in a protective stand. In the space beneath his arm, she could see Orihime with a look of surprised mortification.

"I'm sorry, Ichigo. I didn't realize. . . I didn't mean to intrude."

"Is there something you need from Rukia?"

A small, infantile part of her was pleased he didn't try to make an excuse for his presence, allowing the other woman's mind to insinuate at her leisure. With his rumpled clothes, more than normal dishevelled hair, it was easy enough to jump to conclusions.

Orihime had been nothing but kind to Rukia, and often worked to keep the CAC doctors from getting carried away. It was difficult not to like the woman, and Rukia had come to rely on her since her rescue. She was gentle, yet avoided treating her like she was a fragile piece of art. Over the past couple weeks, Orihime was one of the few who had treated her like a normal person.

And yet, when it came to Ichigo, Rukia found her willingness to accommodate her new friend was limited. Since they'd met, Rukia had noticed the subtle looks Orihime cast towards Ichigo. It was clear she was interested in him. At first, Rukia chose to ignore it, even while they were at the CAC. But for days she watched them interact, whisper and confide in one another when she couldn't even look at him.

She was being cruel and childish. In the end, Rukia knew they would go their separate ways, and still she was pulling him closer to her.

"I was coming to check on her, see how she was doing and if she needed any more sedatives. If she was awake, I was hoping to speak with her about the psychologist." Orihime's genuine concern for Rukia only added to the weight of guilt settling over her. "It looks like things are progressing well on your end. Have you asked her about the doctor?"

"I did. She's made it clear she's not interested."

Orihime signed. "I was afraid of that. The doctor arrives in the afternoon. I'd like her to at least speak with her before deciding for sure, especially with the debriefing to follow. In general, she really needs to speak with someone."

Ichigo released his grip on the doorframe and leaned his shoulder against it, blocking Orihime from view. His voice dropped to a soft whisper. If he was trying to keep her from hearing, he would certainly have to do better than that.

"Thanks. I appreciate everything you've been doing to help her, I know she is too. But she was adamant about not talking to anyone. I'm not entirely sure I blame her. What we found there - even I don't want to think about it, and she lived it."

"But if she keeps bottling it up-"

"I'm going to deal with the problem directly."

There was silence for a few moments.

"You're going to pursue Aizen," Orihime concluded.

"That's been the plan all along. He's just given me additional motivation."

"Revenge won't heal those kinds of wounds," Orihime whispered mournfully.

The truth of it stung more than Rukia wanted to admit. Stopping Aizen wouldn't free her from the horrors that already followed her. There would still be pieces of her missing, ripped out of her and left behind in that place he called a "lab". And there were memories that could never be forgotten, contaminating her, staining her in red, tainting her and those around her.

But it would help.

Ichigo crawled into bed beside her, Orihime gone and the door closed.

"She means well."

"I know."

"She's not wrong."

"I know."

They were both silent, reality killing the passion that had consumed them earlier. All they could think about was what had brought them here to this moment in time. Ichigo was right, Aizen had managed to give them more motivation to hunt him down.

She paused, suddenly realizing something Ichigo had said. With a stubborn glare, she turned to him. "You're not going after him by yourself."

The muscles in his neck tensed. If he thought she hadn't noticed his failing to include her when he mentioned going after Aizen, he was sorely mistaken. She refused to be left behind. She would be there to see Aizen fall and his work destroyed. She would be there to light the match and watch the flames devour everything, and only be satisfied when there was nothing left but ash.

It would be rather poetic. The fire he used to test her limits, that couldn't end her life, would be used to take his.

"I really would prefer you stay as far away from him as possible, _but-_ " he emphasized "but" as she narrowed her eyes and prepared to argue, "I won't stop you."

"Good."

He grunted his dissatisfaction and leaned back on the bed, closing his eyes.

"The CAC wants to hold a debriefing in the evening, after your supposed conversation with the psychologist."

"They've been surprisingly patient considering the circumstances."

She noticed his jaw muscle twitch as he clenched it, and she grew curious. "Or not?"

"It wasn't for a lack of trying, I'll say that much. Orihime and Ashido have been very insistent they wait. Even that CAC agent, Yasutura, hasn't been pushing."

"Ah, you mean Sado."

Ichigo cracked and eye and studied her. "You're on a first-name basis now?"

"Can you blame me? He brought me chocolate cake."

Ichigo sat up. "I didn't realize your trust could be bought with sugar."

"If you'd only known sooner," she mocked.

The agent's assistance was rather surprising. He didn't know her, didn't have a stake in keeping her safe. They never spoke beyond him asking how she was doing, and her thanking him for the luxury food items. At first, she had been suspicious, even going to far as to have Orihime test it for drugs. When she'd found nothing, both of them were left wondering why he visited so often. After days of having her meals controlled, Rukia wasn't going to send him away.

There were so many who were trying to help her, who did what they could to save her, at great risk to themselves. If not for them, she would still be in that cell, still suffering, still-

A flash of dull gray and vibrant red, a feeling of overwhelming pain as heat enveloped her and smoke filled her lungs. Her muscles tensed and she felt nothing, as if the ends of her nerves had been seared off. She struggled to catch her breath, flecks of embers burning her from the inside.

Ichigo pulled her to him, holding her close and whispering to her.

"Stay with me," he repeated, over and over until her breathing became more steady. Taking slow, deep breaths, she willed the memories to leave her. Breath by breath the sensations began to dissipate. She focused on the mundane details around her, the white walls, the number of tiles on the floor, on the ceiling. Eventually, the room solidified and the memories faded.

How long would she have to live like this? Caught between two worlds, struggling to maintain her sanity when one threatened to destroy the other? How could she continue? How could she be of any use? She was nothing but a distraction - a risk.

"Maybe you should go after Aizen on your own, after all." The words were a quiet whisper, soft like a breath. She might have thought he hadn't heard her if he hadn't stopped breathing for a moment.

"Why? You were fairly insistent a minute ago."

It was naive to think he would have been pleased for her to offer to stay behind and to question her motives. She could have ignored him, shut him out and kept her fears and concerns locked away behind the wall she was building. But she didn't want to see those mournful eyes anymore, the ones that begged for her to let him in, to rely on him even just a little.

"I'm not sure if I will help or be a hindrance. I. . ." she took a deep, shaky breath. "Sometimes I can't tell the difference between what's real and what's a memory. There are things, moments, that remind me of a something that happened, hurling me back into that lab, with him watching and smiling and. . ."

She could see him, standing over her, his lips curled in amusement as Halibel took detailed notes. He was speaking to her, telling her something he found insightful, but she couldn't hear him. The pressure had destroyed her eardrums, the blood trailing into her hair and down her neck.

"Stay with me."

Her cheeks were wet, streaked with tears she didn't know were falling. Ichigo was holding her closely, his lips pressed to her ear as he quietly begged for her to stay.

"Sorry," she managed to choke out.

"Don't apologize for something that isn't your fault," he told her gruffly.

Wasn't it though? If she hadn't been so stupid as to leave the hotel room she wouldn't have run into Kaien. If she hadn't been distracted, however briefly, he wouldn't have gotten so close to her. If she-

She was on her back, staring up at the Ichigo as he peered down at her. His mouth was set into a thin line and his eyes burned with remarkable rage.

"Stop it."

She frowned and thought to argue, but he cut her off.

"I know what you're doing. Stop it. This isn't your fault. Even if you hadn't met Kaien in that alley, Aizen would have come for you eventually. He needed you and nothing would have stopped him." His gaze softened. "I don't think even I would have been able to."

"Ichigo-"

"The one who is responsible is Aizen, remember? You said so yourself. Not me. Not you."

"But-"

He kissed her.

It was gentle, tender like the brush of his fingers down her cheek. Yet it was full of desperation, begging her to believe in him and his words. And she wanted to, she needed to, but it was difficult. How could she not wonder what might have been if she had just been more alert? Had fought back? She was trapped in an endless cycle of regret, hate, and misery.

But with this kiss, with him standing beside her, maybe she had enough strength to try.

Forehead pressed to hers, he watched her, trying to read her emotions and intentions, wondering if he had gotten through to her, even a little.

"I'm still not certain I'm going to be the most stable companion."

"Were you ever?"

His lips quirked to the side in a mocking smirk, her eyes widened in indignation and she jabbed him in this side with her fist. His smile only widened.

"Your punches have gotten weak."

"Weak?" Huffing at the insult, Rukia wrapped her legs around his hips and twisted, rolling the both of them off the bed and onto the hard floor. Rukia sat on top, her hands pinning his above his head. Rather than impressed or baffled, he looked very much amused. She felt herself smile in return, despite her challenge. "Care to go a round and find out just how wrong you are?"

"Just don't blame me when you're the one laying on your back.

She quirked an eyebrow, but couldn't help the smile that slid across her lips. "We'll see about that."

* * *

 **Author's Notes:** And so we've finally arrived! It only took a whole other story and the majority of this one to make it happen. I hope this progress makes sense and doesn't seem entirely out of place. I've actually rewritten this section quite a few times, trying to make sure it felt natural, and it always resulted in the two of them finally taking that step here (although there was one version where they went muuuch further - that one definitely didn't feel natural to me).

Thank you all for reading, favoriting, and following! And thanks to **MugetsuIchigo, NieveDrop,** and the **guest** for your reviews! Please continue to R&R, especially after this chapter. I really really want to hear your thoughts on how this went.


	23. Chapter Twenty Two

**Author's Soundtrack:**

The Path (A New Beginning) by Gustavo Santaolalla

* * *

Chapter Twenty Two

* * *

Outside her window, Rukia could see the edges of the forest surrounding the city of Coban, the peaks of the mountain range where, somewhere, she had been kept. From so far away, in the colorful light of the setting sun, everything appeared serene, picturesque. It was difficult to imagine what horrors lay beneath the canopy of vibrant greens. She found comfort in knowing that it was now nothing more than a crater of smoldering remains. If only Aizen had done her the courtesy of remaining in the building when he'd set off the explosions.

Seeing his mocking face through the flames sent a debilitating wave of familiar pain coursing through her. The cool sensation of the wall as she leaned against it did little to ease the overwhelming heat that scorched her body.

It was a memory.

It wasn't real.

 _This_ was reality.

She repeated the phrases until the feeling dulled into a mild ache and she could see the forest outside once again. Her body longed for the relief she found in Ichigo's arms, the comfort and strength of his hold acting as a wall that separated her from those wretched memories. Silently, she forced that longing down. Being with Ichigo lightened the severity of her attacks, but she knew she couldn't continue to rely on him for it. It wasn't fair and it wasn't right. She needed to learn to rein in these memories and take control of them on her own.

There was a knock on her door and Ichigo stepped inside. When he saw her at the window he frowned. She tried to offset his concern with a smile, but he was by her side in an instant.

"You all right?"

"You're just as bad as Orihime," Rukia remarked with a humorous snort. "I'm fine."

He didn't look convinced, and touch her cheek. "Your skin feels clammy and there's sweat on your forehead."

"You really know how to make a girl feel pretty," she bit back sharply. Instead of being offended or hurt by her tone, he smirk.

"I suppose you can't be feeling all that bad if you can snap at me."

She cringed, feeling guilty. "Sorry."

"A bad one?"

She only shook her head, not interested in going into any details, mostly in fear of reliving the moment again. She'd experienced worse. Comparatively, this was a slap to the face versus being hit by a semi. At least she could get over this one on her own. With enough practice, she might be able to do it with a worse episode.

He pulled her to him and gave her forehead a soft kiss. She thought he might apologize, lament what happened to her, but he remained silent. Feeling the tension ease from her muscles, she melted into his embrace. All she needed at this moment was his presence.

"How'd the meeting with the doctor go?"

How had it gone? The psychologist Orihime selected was kind enough, professionally inquisitive without pushing too hard. They did little more than exchange pleasantries, some small talk, and stare at one another. True, it had only been a two hour visit, but was that good or bad? She wasn't expecting to be instantaneously healed, her mind calm and the memories chased away, but did she feel any better? Was she supposed to? How did she know she was on the mend? That therapy was what she needed?

" _Everyone has their own pace, their own way of healing,"_ she recalled the doctor telling her. " _There is no 'one size fits all' approach to dealing with trauma."_

It was frustrating. All she wanted to be was normal again. To be her old self. But that wasn't possible. She knew it. After Kaien she had never been the same. This was no different.

But she had liked who she was, who she was turning into. Where did she go from here?

There was a knock on the door. Rukia pulled away from Ichigo and opened it to see a CAC agent.

"The debriefing will be starting soon." And having delivered his message, scurried off down the hall.

"We can try to delay it," Ichigo said, standing behind her. His hand wrapped around hers and pulled it from the handle. Her palm ached, the skin creased with the line of the handle. She hadn't realized she'd been holding it so tight.

The thought of what was waiting for her made her stomach churn. What kinds of questions would they ask? Would they want to know details? About every single thing that was done to her? Would she need to start from the very beginning? The first time? The first death?

It had been simple, easy, quick with only the feeling of a sharp blade biting into her throat before the end came. He'd cut deep enough that she's bled out in seconds. The second and third deaths were quick as well - nearly instantaneous.

Then he got creative.

Fingers entwined with her own and Ichigo pulled her to him.

"Stay with me."

He reached up and pulled her hand from her throat. Without realizing it, she had been massaging the area where she felt the steel of a slow moving blade.

"I'll let Orihime know we need more time."

"No," she stated, taking a deep breath and solidifying the world around her. Reaching for the door, she pulled it open. "I want to get it over with."

When Ichigo didn't second guess her decision she almost kissed him. There was already too much doubt floating around in her mind, hearing it spoken aloud would have made it difficult for her to move forward.

The conference room where they were meeting was large enough to fit twenty of the CAC agents and several observers. Much to Rukia's relief, the majority of the seats were vacant. A large U-shaped table was centered in the room, with Councilor Reyes, Agent Yasutura, and two other agents seated at the top. Along the far side sat Orihime and Ashido.

Her eyes met with Ashido's. They would need to speak before this was over. There were many thing she wanted to say to him, things that should have been said when she first work up, but couldn't.

" _Kuchiki! Kurosaki!"_

Shinji's excited voice boomed from the speakers in the room, causing Rukia to flinch. His bobbing blonde head was projected from the large TV on the wall. Already she felt a tick form at the base of her eyes. Not quite the appropriate response when seeing her Chancellor, but Shinji had that kind of affect on people. There was another face on the screen. A severe looking man with slicked back dark hair - Director Ginjou from the American Agency, she believed. And he looked just as annoyed with Shinji's antics as Rukia felt.

" _Glad to see you alive and kicking, Kuchiki!"_

"Chancellor," she greeted him formally with a small bow of her head. "I see the Gathering hasn't had an impact on your boundless enthusiasm."

Scowling in disapproval, Shinji leaned back in his chair and prepared to go on a long, whining tirade.

" _Are you kidding? These assholes have managed to suck an entire century off my lifespan. It takes forever for them to come to any sort of consensus. The other day, it took them half the morning to decide what they wanted for lunch - I kid you not!"_

"Chancellor Shinji," Councilor Reyes cut in, much to the relief of everyone save Shinji himself. "Now that you have seen your Councilor is in good health, I assume we can begin."

Heaving an exasperated sigh, Shinji nodded. His expression became severe as he eyed the camera. " _Let me warn you one last time, Councilor, to tread carefully."_

Councilor Reyes gave him a pointed stare, but nodded. Motioning to the seats in front of them, the councilor asked them to take a seat.

"Agent Yasutura," the councilor said, looking to her agent, "please begin."

"As most of you are aware, after the capture of Councilor Kuchiki, the American, Japanese, and British agents discovered through an anonymous source where she was being held captive. They formally requested permission from the CAC to retrieve her. We then sent a team to scout the area-"

" _You're missing some information there, kid,"_ Director Ginjou's hands were clasped in front of his face, his eyes narrowed and thick brows furrowed. " _Don't think we forgot about you blackmailing our teams, Reyes."_

" _We are both fully aware you struck an impromptu deal on the tarmac,"_ Shinji added, with heavy sincerity. " _Our team's assistance in retrieving important data to gain access to your territory. Access, I remind you, our agencies had already received before traveling to your territory."_

It was rare for Shinji to become so frightening serious, but it seemed the Gathering and recent events had taken a toll on his patience. His finger tapped on the surface of his desk as he challenged the councilor with a hard stare.

"It is true that I used rather unorthodox means to ensure the recovery of a certain item," Reyes replied, unruffled by the accusation.

" _An item that you refused to give us information on and that could have risked the lives of everyone under your command. An item that you were led to by an unfamiliar and unverified source,"_ Ginjou added, his voice growing rough.

The councilor worked her jaw, clearly unhappy with the level of scrutiny she was facing in her own debriefing. Hearing most of this for the first time, Rukia was stunned. It was unsurprising for a council to use less than reputable means to leverage an advantage over others, but that they were willing to accept the terms was shocking. Ichigo's determination was moving, but he was known for ignoring rules in favor of doing what he thought was right. Ashido and Orihime, however, still had careers to be mindful of. Depending on the information, their actions could have been viewed as treasonous.

She couldn't help but wonder if she would have done the same, had the circumstances been different. Could she have ignored Council rules and risked her new life to help someone?

Lifting her gaze, she caught Ichigo's eye and she knew she would have. Without a doubt, she would have burned the forest to the ground to find him.

And that thought shook her to the core.

"We did what we could to verify the source and their information," Reyes finally replied, managing to keep her anger in check. "There was not time to vet the source any further, and all team members were warned of the risks."

" _What was on the flash drive?"_ Ginjou pushed.

"I am not at liberty to discuss the contents-"

" _Cut the bullshit, Consuella."_ Shinji leaned into the camera, his jaw set as he glowered at her through the screen. " _You used the situation to your advantage and manipulated our people into helping you retrieve unknown data, which was clearly another trap who could have done who knows what. You risked my councilor, my agent, and the agents of two other councils. If you think we're getting through this meeting without know exactly what was on that flash drive, you are sorely mistaken."_

The councilor looked flustered. "I do not have permission from Chancellor Cordova."

" _Chancellor Sullivan and I will deal with Chancellor Cordova._ Talk _."_

"You would damage your own position-"

" _Do you really think I'm the one at risk here? You have three councils with their eyes on you. Three councils who nearly lost some of their top agents because you and Cordova decided to play it hard and fast. Cordova's lucky I don't drag his ass out in front of the other councils and demand answers right there."_

"You wouldn't dare!"

" _Try me."_

Shinji and Reyes glowered at one another, the tension ratcheting with each passing moment until the councilor exhaled, her posture deflating. Rukia felt for her. She was only doing what she thought was right for her council, and now she was suffering for it. Rukia had no real love for the woman, but she could understand the complications of her position.

Sitting up, the councilor opened her mouth and then shut it again, grappling with her decision. As she began to speak again, Shinji interrupted her.

" _It's in your best interest that only the truth comes out of that mouth,"_ Ginjou warned.

Councilor Reyes fumed, her eyes locked on Shinji as she grappled with her decisions. And then she sighed, rubbing the exhaustion from her eyes.

"The data was supposed to have information on the whereabout of Chancellor Cordova's son, as well as evidence of a crime he committed."

"The Chancellor's son is missing?" Orihime asked.

Councilor Reyes nodded. "For several weeks. At first, we thought he was running about like usual. He is a strong supporter of the humans and is often meeting with other groups to push their agenda. He was at a large conference in Spain when he went missing. Not wanting to draw attention to the matter, we sent a team to discreetly search for him."

The councilor's visage darkened considerably before she continued. "A team eventually found him. He'd been hunting in Italy, killing senselessly and leaving bodies in the open for humans to find. When we finally caught up to him, he was. . . he was a monster. Consumed by the hunger that seemed to hound him endlessly, he had transformed into something unrecognizable."

" _I'm assuming the Spanish Council had no idea the culprit responsible for wreaking havoc in their territory was the Chancellor's son,"_ Shinji observed.

"None. There would have been war."

"Attacking humans in their territory is certainly an issue," Orihime chimed in, "but for it to result in a war? That seems a bit dramatic."

Rukia could see Ichigo tense beside her, knowing he was doing his best to keep himself from cutting in. She was certain there would never come a time when he didn't value human lives ,when their treatment by the Councils would be viewed as acceptable. They were still his people, even if he was no longer one of them, and the loss of life due to vampires still struck a chord with him. She could read it in his eyes, the question of how many more lives would be lost or damaged because vampires saw them as little more than their food supply? As damaged goods when one vampire ran wild?

The image of his father laid out on the floor of his sisters' bedroom was jarring. When it shifted to a young girl, Rukia nearly slipped into another episode.

It was a memory.

It wasn't real.

 _This_ was reality.

"Except that one of his victims was the daughter of a human ambassador."

" _Of course she was,"_ Ginjou grumbled.

Ichigo broke his silence. "What, there are humans who actually a matter to you people?"

"Yes," Councilor Reyes replied sharply. "Human ambassadors work as a bridge between the Councils and their governments. It helps to ensure stability within the territories. As a benefit, they are protected under our laws. Any attack on them is viewed as an attack on the council itself."

"Out of obligation, the Spanish Council is required to act or it could lead to chaos in their territory," Orihime added.

" _After finding him in Spain, and discovering he killed the girl, you lost track of him?"_ Shinji asked, his tone still taking on a hard edge.

Cringing at the reminder of her failure, Councilor Reyes nodded. "The flash drive was supposed to have his whereabouts, along with information about what was done to him. For him to have been reduced to feeding on humans when he's fought so long for them - it's heinous."

" _It's clear this is Aizen's doing,"_ Shinji said, a darkness settling over his features. " _For the past six months, each of the territories has been dealing with rogues who have made a mess of things. Killing and leaving the bodies for the public to find. At first, we thought they were vultures, taking advantage of the Gathering and the chaos Aizen's betrayal has sown, but it appears their involvement is more calculated._

" _Councilor Kuchiki, please share what you've discovered with our troublemakers."_

It wasn't how she expected the debriefing to go. The first thing she thought they would discuss was her experience. It was a relief. And it was nice - to be looked at, not as a victim of Aizen's, but a partner in this fight against him.

Shinji was watching her, his mouth hidden behind his hands, but she was convinced she saw a small smile. She would have to buy him a very expensive brandy when she got back.

"There were several rogues that were hunted in the British territory," she began. "As the Chancellor stated, we thought them only taking advantage of the instability created by Aizen's attack. However, we soon discovered one rogue whose movements were more calculated, and we discovered he was working for Aizen.

"We can't be sure if he was a willing participant or not. After we captured him, a chip in his brain introduced a powerful chemical into his bloodstream, killing him almost instantly.

"We've had similar cases in the past few months," Orihime added. "Each of the rogues captured had chips as well."

A shared glance between Agent Yasutura and the councilor indicated they'd had similar experiences.

"What does that mean?" Ashido wondered aloud.

"Guessing Aizen's motives is a waste of time," Rukia replied. "What I do know is that the last rogue we killed had been assigned to watch me, and another sent to retrieve me in New York."

"Aizen seems to have quite the fascination with you," the councilor cut in, eyeing Rukia dubiously.

"Aizen and I have a very. . . tumultuous history."

"That's putting it mildly," the councilor mocked. "He killed your family, killed your guard's family, turned his sisters, massacred members of your hunting tea, and, according to some reports, he even killed you."

Rukia kept an even stare as Reyes summarized the events of her life with ease.

"Why is he so focused on you? What is it about you that keeps him coming after you?" Reyes leaned forward, her eyes boring into Rukia's, searching for an answer. Rukia fought to keep her emotions tamped down as Reyes' questions beat against her like heavy stones. "What answers is he trying to get out of you? What is exactly is your relationship? Are you truly just another victim, or is there more? Perhaps, in reality, you're actually-"

"Back the fuck off!" Ichigo was out of his chair, his hands slamming on the table as he leaned forward, white teeth bare for all to see. "Ask another stupid ass question and no title in the world will keep you safe."

The two other CAC agents were out of their chairs, hands on their swords. Ashido and Orihime responded in kind. Eyes were locked on Ichigo and Reyes, waiting for one of them to act.

The temperature in the room began to drop as Rukia felt her control slip. She knew little about her abilities, except that they were somehow connected to her emotions. If she didn't rein them in, soon Reyes would know one of the very things Aizen was curious about - and she was not someone Rukia wanted to trust with this secret.

" _Kurosaki,"_ Shinji broke in, his voice stern. When Ichigo ignored him, he spoke more firmly. " _Ichigo. I'm sure Councilor Reyes regrets her poor choice in words and questions. I imagine she only means to understand what Aizen is up to, and not to accuse Councilor Kuchiki of treason."_ Shinji turned his eyes to Reyes. " _Don't you Councilor?"_

Reyes' eyes darted between Ichigo and Shinji before settling on Rukia. Whatever she saw in Rukia's face seemed to affect Reyes, her gaze softening some as she leaned back in her chair.

"I apologize, Councilor Kuchiki. Aizen has done a great deal of harm to our people. We only wish to discover what his goals are and put a stop to them."

Rukia's voice caused Reyes to still. "You're wasting your time."

"Excuse me?"

"Aizen likely has no real goals, no final outcome that he wants to reach. His intentions are purely scientific. Our world is the experiment. He's only setting things up and introducing variables to see the different results. Destroying the chambers that kind from wiping out towns, creating armies with different methods of rebirth, kidnapping rogues and council members and destroy their will and personalities - it's all just data to him. If there is an end game, I doubt anyone will be able to figure it out."

Taking a shaky breath, Rukia looked Reyes in the eye. "And if you want my honest opinion, your chancellor's son is dead at best. He played his part, now he's of no more use."

"At worst?"

"If you don't think taking a bleeding heart, human rights advocate and reducing him to an uncontrollable beast that feeds and kills without hesitation isn't the worst possible outcome for him, then I imagine you don't want to consider what the 'worst' is."

Rukia's words settled on the room with a heavy, suffocating weight. Still, she wasn't quite sure they could imagine the lengths of Aizen's depravity.

" _Considering Aizen's role in what happened to the Cordova's son and the ambassador's daughter,"_ Shinji said after a long pause, " _I think we can safely say that the CAC will not be held responsible."_

"What are you getting at?" Reyes demanded cautiously.

" _I'll be bringing this to the attention of the other chancellor's."_

Reyes was out of her chair. "You can't! It'll start a war!"

Shinji sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. " _I understand your concern. It's certainly not a matter to be taken lightly, but it's either this or Spain hears about it from Aizen himself."_

"It would make sense," Ashido cut in. "Relations between the territories can be rather volatile. It would be easy to tear them apart with just the right nudge."

Reyes sat back in her chair, eyes wide with disbelief. "So we're screwed either way."

" _Don't be so melodramatic, Consuella,"_ Shinji moaned in annoyance. " _What happened to the Chancellor's son is tragic, and I'm sorry for it, but this provides us with an opportunity to gather the territories together and deal with Aizen once and for all. They will finally see how easy it is to toy with us when we are divided."_

"You would use his death to your advantage?" Reyes spat.

" _If it will convince all of the other chancellors to get off their lazy asses and actually do something? Yes, without hesitation."_ She stood, snarling and ready to berate him, but Shinji continued. " _We've all suffered at the hands of this maniac, but he is too resourceful to face alone. Believe me, we've been trying. He's manipulating our strained relationships and using it to rip us apart piece by piece. We need everyone working together to bring him down once and for all."_

"You would tear us apart _for_ him," she countered.

" _I understand your concerns, but they will see reason, even the chancellor from Spain."_

"You are a fool to believe that."

He shrugged. " _I probably am, but that's not going to stop me. With Rukia's testimony and the evidence gathered by our four councils, our chances of convincing them to put aside their petty differences are considerably higher."_

Rukia stared at Shinji. "You mean for me to speak at the Gathering?"

" _I do."_

"But for someone of my rank to attend-"

" _Sod the rules. This is more important."_

"The councilor isn't leaving," Reyes stated with determination.

"Apologies, Consuella, I didn't mean for that to sound like a request."

"Rukia Kuchiki-"

"Is not a member of your council and is a guest. Or are you telling me you are holding a member of my council prisoner?"

A chill swept through the room, and Rukia was confident it wasn't her doing.

Shinji leveled an icy glare at Reyes, and underlying threat hidden in his gaze. One wrong word and Reyes would have the war she was afraid of, and it would be the British Council alone. Director Ginjou had been more than willing to back Shinji, and his silence spoke volumes. And if Shinji decided to reveal the information to the Spanish Chancellor. . .

The weight of the consequences visibly forced her into her seat. "We have no other connection."

The defeated tone of her voice tugged at Rukia's heart. All she wanted was justice, revenge for the assault Aizen had committed on her people. If there was one thing Rukia could sympathize with, it was the need for revenge.

But what Reyes wanted, Rukia couldn't give her.

"I don't remember anything that would help you," Rukia told her. "Even if Aizen had been in a gloating mood, he wouldn't have shared anything that might have compromised his plans. If anything, he would have said something that would have only benefitted him in the end."

Reyes stared at Rukia, her dark brown eyes begging for her to be lying. When she saw nothing but determined truth, Reyes heaved a heavy sign.

" _Now that that's over with, I suggest, Rukia, you get some rest before your flight. Once you're her, things will get interesting."_

Despite his dire words, a gleeful grin had spread across Shinji's lips, giving him the disturbing likeness of the Chesire Cat.

"What's with the look?" She asked dubiously.

" _What look?"_

"That 'this is going to be great' look you get every time one of the elders gets into a fight with Hiyori; look."

" _Listen, I've been bored out of my mind for the past month. Forgive me for being excited that something interesting is finally going to happen."_

At least one of them was looking forward to her testimony. She'd managed to dodge a bullet with the debriefing, but the chancellors wouldn't be so lenient. They would want to know every detail, evaluate every bit of evidence - at least, she hoped they would. Although she dreaded the moment when she would have to speak about what happened to her, about what she might have heard, it would be even worse if the chancellors chose to ignore her and Aizen altogether. Shinji was right, they needed to move against Aizen as one, otherwise, he would destroy them bit by bit.

If she had to suffer through those memories in order to save her people, she would do it.

* * *

 **Author's Notes:** Hello my lovelies! I am so so sorry this chapter is so late. I ended up rewriting about 60% of it, then I got slammed with real life stuff.

I wanted to make it clear that Rukia and Ichigo have NOT slept together yet. The ending of the last chapter was playful, but it's still too early for them to take that step. In reality, they would have gone for a sparring session - where Orihime would have been none too pleased with her patient escaping to practice fighting. I thought about writing a whole new chapter with that, but I couldn't get it to work.

I wanted to thank and respond to a guest who left a very lengthy and awesome review since I can't PM them. One of their concerns was how OOC they felt Rukia was by offering to step down from the hunt for Aizen when it is her life's mission at this point. Honestly, I kind of like that it felt that way. In a way, it puts you guys in the same shoes as Ichigo and Ashido. She is the same woman they knew, and yet not. Everyone responds to events in their lives in different ways and we have no idea what those responses will be until we're in those situations. In this world, this story, this is how I see her reacting to what has happened to her. I hope that doesn't scare you off, dear guest, and that you continue to read - especially because we have some more vampire politics coming up ;).

Thank you all again for reading and for the favorites and follows, and for the reviews from the two anonymous guests, **MugetsuIchigo** , and **NieveDrop** \- I really do love hearing all of your thoughts on what is going on so please R&R!


	24. Chapter Twenty Three

**Author's Soundtrack:**  
Hurts Like Hell by Fleuri

* * *

Chapter Twenty Three

* * *

A small duffle bag sat on Rukia's bed, empty. There was nothing for her to pack. All Rukia had with her was the slightly baggy tank top and a long pair of khaki pants Orihime managed to scrounge up, and a pair of combat boots she was certain a CAC agent regretfully parted with. What she brought with her from overseas was still in New York - probably in a dumpster, and Aizen hadn't bothered to provide her with a stitch of clothing. There hadn't been a point. Anything he put on her would only have been destroyed, so why waste the effort?

Yanking the strap of her shirt back onto her shoulder, Rukia wondered if they had time to stop somewhere before they left. First impressions were everything, especially when meeting with all of the chancellors. As much as she hated to admit it, she already looked like a child. Add poor fitting clothing to the mix and it would be a surprise if they didn't laugh her out of the room.

Maybe Shinji would have something waiting for her.

She snorted derisively. Not likely. That involved thinking ahead, and while he had proven he was certainly capable of maneuvering strategically, what Rukia wore when addressing the chancellors wasn't something that would occur to him. There were more important matters to be considered.

If worst came to worst, she would have to suck it up. She would make the councils understand the gravity of their situation, one way or another. She had to, or there would be no stopping Aizen.

"I know you tend to pack light, but nothing at all?"

Ashido leaned on the door frame, watching her with an amused gleam in his eye.

"Nothing _to_ pack," she remarked. "Although I think I have enough baggage to last me quite a while."

She glanced at him with a wry smile, but it quickly fell when she saw his eyes darken.

"I suppose I should take it as a good sign that you can make that kind of a joke so soon."

He didn't sound particularly relieved, perhaps because he knew there was no depth to her comment, no sense of healing or humor.

"Sorry," she replied, her shoulders sagging slightly.

"Don't apologize," he told her, sighing and stepping into the room. He set his bag on the floor and shoved his hands into his pants pockets. "You can't help it if you make terrible jokes."

The corners of her lips raised slightly, but her heart certainly wasn't it in.

"I never did thank you," she said after a quiet lull. "For coming here, for finding me."

"Always."

Her heart twisted with the sincerity of his tone, the longing she saw in his eyes. It wasn't fair, to keep dragging him back into her life when he was trying to escape. She truly appreciated the sacrifice and risks he took to help her and Ichigo, but it wasn't right.

"Ashido-"

"I know," he said, cutting her off. "I'm not expecting anything from this. I did this for selfish reasons, and I would do it again. Besides, it's fun to throw Genryuusai a curve ball every now and then."

Rukia flinched, knowing very well the wrath of the Japanese chancellor was nothing if not brutal. While Ashido wore a playful smirk, she knew he hadn't made it through the conversation with Genryuusai without some scars.

"I'm sorry you had to go through that. If I-"

"Didn't I say to stop apologizing?" Ashido huffed, crossing his arms. "You didn't force me to come. You didn't force me to disobey orders. I made those decisions myself. I knew the consequences going in."

"But if I had-"

"None of this was your fault," he insisted.

Wasn't it though? If she hadn't allowed herself to be distracted, hadn't let her guard down, had acted more quickly, Ashido would be back in Japan and in the good graces of Genryuusai. He wouldn't have risked his career or his life to find her. How could she not take some sort of responsibility?

"Still, after everything you've done, what I've dragged you into, I-"

Ashido took her hands in his and held them close to his chest. The heavy and familiar rhythm of his heart instinctively eased the tension building up inside her. His fingers brushed her knuckles gently as he stared into her eyes, daring her to challenge him. It felt too intimate, too inappropriate. Feeling her cheeks flush, Rukia tried to pull her hand from his grip.

He didn't release her.

"I don't know any other way to say it," he said, pressing her hand to his heart. "This isn't on you, and I'm sorry if I made you feel like you were responsible in any way. Before, when I . . . I shouldn't have tried to push you. I thought I could fix things, like in the past. But when I saw you, when you didn't respond, I - I thought you had gone somewhere I could not follow, and that terrified me."

Each word was like thousands of needles, piercing her skin, burrowing deep and filling her with guilt. It wasn't her intention to hurt him, to ignore him and leave him behind. If she had been stronger she wouldn't have allowed herself to continue living in that hell. She would have buried everything and gotten back on her feet. Instead, she'd crumbled. She'd buckled under the weight of what she suffered and let it crush her and those around her.

His hand was on her cheek, a calloused thumb wiping away the tears.

"That wasn't your doing," he continued tenderly, "That was me, being selfish and feeling scared instead of being a support for you. None of this was your fault. If there is anyone to blame, it's that douche bag. He's the one behind everything. Not you."

Reaching up, she wrapped her hand around his and squeezed, letting his feelings and intentions sink in. They wouldn't fix everything. She was convinced nothing would, but a part of her felt a little lighter.

"That expression is something I can invest in," Ashido said with a warm smile. "I brought you something, by the way."

"Rescuing me and bringing me gifts, you're going to spoil me," she managed to mock playfully.

He grinned as he grabbed the bag from the floor and set it on her bed. Curious, she opened it and her heart nearly exploded with gratitude.

"My clothes!"

"I never thought I would see a woman so happy to see such a measly collection of clothing," Ashido remarked with a knowing smirk.

"Most women don't have to deal with constantly falling out of what they're wearing," she shot back. Seeing his growing smile, she gave him a warning glare, daring him to make a smart ass retort.

He raised his hands defensively. "I didn't say anything. Although I imagine Kurosaki wouldn't mind your struggles."

Rukia froze, holding up a black tank. Slowly, she turned her gaze to Ashido. His smile was gone, and that practiced wall of his was in place. He was hiding his pain from her - for her.

"When did you find out?"

He looked insulted. "I wouldn't be very good at my job if I couldn't piece together something so obvious. Kurosaki was always protective of you, but I could see the switch a couple days ago to something more akin to affection. That, and I could smell you all over him."

Rukia felt her face heat and she looked away. "We haven't - I didn't -"

His hand was on her shoulder, turning her to face him. "What the two of you do together is your business. I just want to know if he makes you happy."

Happy? It was difficult for her to determine if what she felt was happiness. For weeks all she had known was fear, anger, worry. With Ichigo nearby, sleep came a little more easily, the nightmares scattered a little more quickly. He was like Orihime's sedatives. With each dose, she could control the chaos raging in her mind and heart. Every day with him by her side, she felt she could regain a little more of who she once was.

And every day she was reminded of how she was deceiving him.

"It isn't enough," she found herself whispering aloud. "It won't be enough."

Ashido frowned in confusion. "What do you mean?"

Taking a shaky breath, she sat on the edge of the bed. She hadn't told anyone what she had done. Most of them wouldn't understand. They would see it as survival, natural selection, the natural order. But Ichigo wouldn't see it that way. He would see it as murder, plain and simple. When he looked at her he would no longer see her, but the blood that stained her hands. It didn't matter how strong his feelings were for her. In the end, she would just be another monster.

Could she live having lost his love?

"I'm such a coward," she choked.

Ashido sat beside her. He didn't say anything, didn't probe further, just sat and waited. It was tempting to unload the weight of her sins on him, knowing he wouldn't judge her, knowing he would still be there if she needed him. Even if Ichigo left her, she knew Ashido would be there for her. But it wasn't fair to him.

She was hurting, but that didn't give her an excuse to keep dragging people into her messes. This was something she needed to deal with on her own. She needed to build her resolve and tell Ichigo the truth. It would cost her something precious, but it was the right thing to do. And it would be the perfect catalyst to send him away.

As much as she hated the idea of his leaving with anger in his heart, it would make things easier. After they dealt with Aizen, he could cut ties and leave her behind without any regrets. There would be nothing holding him back from enjoying his life with his family. The hurt they would both suffer would be for the best. The aches would fade with time, she was sure of it.

Ashido wrapped an arm around her and pulled her to him.

"Of the things I would call you, coward is not one of them," Ashido whispered quietly. "Strong. Courageous. Stubborn. Frustrating. Short."

Rukia couldn't help the chuckle the bubbled up. "And you started off so well."

And then her smile faded. "But this time I'm neither strong nor courageous. I did something I know Ichigo won't forgive and I have yet to tell him about it for fear of his reaction. It doesn't matter how he feels about me, once I tell him, things will end."

"Bullshit. That kid may hide it well, but he loves you and would do anything for you."

"This is different." She pulled away from Ashido. "This isn't something one can easily forgive. When I tell him, he will leave."

Ashido watched her, his eyes searching for any sign of what it was that weighed so heavily, but she wouldn't share it. This was her burden to bear.

"I think you're underestimating him," he finally replied, standing up from the bed. Turning, he looked down at her and offered her a comforting smile as he brushed some hair from her face. "He's young, but he's just as stubborn as you. I think he'll surprise you when the time comes. But, if he's stupid enough to walk away, you'll know where to find me."

"Six feet deep if you're not careful."

Ichigo stood in the doorway, his eyes locked on Ashido. Rukia felt her heart drop into her stomach. Ashido rolled his eyes and made his way casually towards the door.

"Sure, kid. The car ready?"

Ichigo didn't answer for a moment, as if gauging Ashido's response. "Yeah. The plane should be ready by the time we get there."

"We?" Rukia asked, seizing the opportunity to divert Ashido's leaving and the conversation she knew was waiting for her.

Ashido smirked. "You didn't think it was going to be just you and the kid did you? Orihime's declared the FCA's invested interest in seeing you escorted back to your chancellor, Reyes is sending that pro wrestler to keep her in the loop, and Genryuusai needs an update."

"You could try calling him," Ichigo offered flatly.

"And miss an opportunity to see a Gathering in person? No thanks." He slapped Ichigo on the shoulder. "You're going to have to put up with me for a bit longer."

Ashdio spared Rukia one last look before exiting, leaving the two of them alone. Voices from the hall floated in through the open door, but the silence between them was heavy and uncomfortable. She wasn't sure what to say or do. How much had he heard? If he knew there was something she was hiding, he would be furious. They'd been through this song and dance before, vowing never to hide anything from one another again. It hadn't gone well last time, and it certainly wouldn't be any better this time.

But she wasn't ready to tell him. She needed more time to find the pieces of her shattered courage so she could look him in the eye when she told him what she had done.

Ichigo's face was like stone, intent on keeping emotions in check and hidden. His usual scowl was gone in favor of something almost completely blank. She didn't know what to do with that. She was prepared for his anger, beg for forgiveness she didn't deserve, but the Ichigo that stood in front of her was someone who asked for no excuses, no apologies.

"If you're ready, we should head down to the car."

Rukia nearly flinched at the cool tone with which he spoke. It was almost worse than his limited expressions.

All she had to do was say the words, accept his wrath, and live with his hatred. It had to be better than what she was experiencing right now. And yet she couldn't bring herself to say anything, to tell him about what she had done. Where was the woman Ashido was convinced existed? Was she nothing more than ashes, her remains scattered to the wind like the rest of Aizen's lab? She certainly wasn't with her any longer.

Strong arms wrapped around her, engulfing her in overwhelming warmth. The heat rolling off him seeped into her skin, reaching her bones and soothing the aching loss that had settled there. His heartbeat was slow and heavy, pounding against her ear like a deafening drum. For a few minutes he said nothing, only held her close to him. It was almost painful, crushing her beneath his grip, but she wanted nothing less. It told her he was there. He was suffering in his own way, but he wasn't leaving her. Despite the hurt, the betrayal, the deceit, he was with her.

She managed to choke down the sob that threatened to burst from her.

"You don't have to tell me," he whispered softly. "Whatever it is you're hiding, I don't have to know if you don't want me to. But I wish like hell you wouldn't write me off so quickly. After everything we've been through, I thought. . . I hoped. . . "

She wanted to argue, to tell him he was wrong, but she'd said as much. When Ichigo learned the truth, she was confident he would not stay by her side, despite their past. Of this she was certain, and she couldn't tell him otherwise. She wouldn't lie to him.

"I may not know what it is that you've done, but I can promise you this, I won't be pushed aside so easily." Staring up into his eyes, she saw a fire burning there, one of sheer determination and confidence. For a moment, she believed him. No matter what she told him, what she did, he would stay with her.

But they were just words. When he knew the truth, she wasn't so sure he could keep that promise.

Tipping her head back, he drew closer. "Face it, Rukia Kuchiki, you're stuck with me."

It was dangerous to trust in him so completely, but she found herself doing just that. Clenching her jaw, she struggled to stifle the flame of hope growing inside of her with reality, but it fought against her, growing larger as Ichigo pressed his lips lovingly to her's.

* * *

 **Author's notes:** Apologies again for the late delivery! This wasn't supposed to be how this chapter went. At all. We were supposed to head to the Gathering and watch some vampire politics, but the characters seem to have revolted against me and demanded a rewrite -.-. Thus the slightly shorter, this is why we can't have nice things, chapter. I hope you all enjoyed it nonetheless. I promise, the next chapter we will be going to the Gathering and things are going to start picking up some more.

Thanks to everyone who continues to read and enjoy this story! A special thanks to those who left reviews: **NieveDrop** , **Haru** (welcome back! And I can't make any promises ;) ), and **LordDarkFluff**. Please R &R, I would love to hear your comments and feedback on the story and latest chapters!


	25. Chapter Twenty Four

**Author's Soundtrack:  
** Arnalds: This Place Was A Shelter by Olafur Arnalds (Beginning)  
Never Alone by Olafur Arnalds (Shower)  
Don't Close Your Eyes by Sam Tinnesz (Line Break)

 **Don't really want to ruin it, but adult content of the sexual nature is ahead. You have been warned.**

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Chapter Twenty Four

* * *

There was much about the Gathering that was unknown, kept secret by the chancellors throughout the ages to protect themselves and the sanctity of the Gathering itself. Little information was shared with members of the councils. Rank and pedigree afforded some a few more details, but hardly enough to satiate their curiosity.

To most, Gatherings occurred every 50-100 years. Heads of the councils would meet at a designated location where they would discuss the past and future of their species, humanity's standing, and the chances for a successful revelation and integration with them. Rules would be evaluated and modified accordingly, and at the end of it, the chancellors would return home to introduce any new laws or retractions.

It had been this way since the establishment of the councils nearly a millennia ago.

Not known to many was that the councils and their Gatherings had not always been welcomed. The majority of the vampires were eager for the establishment of a governing force for their people. They were scattered, weak against the threat of god-fearing humans. They sought strength and found it in Genryuusai and his supporters. But there was a faction who hated the idea of being controlled, their actions restricted by someone other than themselves. In their immortality, they found freedom and despised anything that threatened to take it away.

At the very first Gathering, half of the newly instated chancellors and their followers were assassinated.

The damage to the young councils was significant, setting their progress back several decades. It wasn't another 50 years until the councils had rooted out the rebels and solidified their positions and reputations in the world, stabilizing their territories and gaining the confidence of their people. Unlike the first Gathering, which had been announced and celebrated publicly, the next Gathering was held and completed before anyone knew it had even taken place.

Over the centuries, many tried to discover the whereabouts of the meeting. Many failed miserably. Some disappeared entirely. It was speculated they died during their travels, falling victim to happenstance. Others speculated foul play. Whatever the case, the location of the Gathering remained a secret.

And now Rukia and several others were circling a small island chain, their plane preparing to land at that very protected place. Despite Shinji's invitation, she couldn't help but worry their plane would be shot down, the debris left floating in the Pacific for the oceanic life to pick clean.

The main island wasn't particularly large, spanning only 300 square miles. Nearly all of it was covered in hundreds of acres of lush green foliage. Only the coasts, skirting the outer edges of the island, were bare with white sands. In the center the jagged gray peaks of a mountain punctured through the mossy veil, the top wearing a touch of green like a furred coat. Smaller, forested islands trailed behind the main one like a spotted tail. There were no signs of civilization except for a dock, a runway, and a collection of buildings latched onto the near vertical cliffs of the mountain, tiered from top to bottom like a man made waterfall.

It was a private tropical paradise.

It was also one of the last places Rukia wanted to be.

Here, she needed to convince her people's most powerful leaders to put aside their centuries worth of grievances and come together as one to face an unbelievable foe. If they didn't, everything they worked for over the last thousand years would be destroyed.

And just how did she convince them to take this threat seriously? What did she have to tell them to make them understand how powerful and conniving Aizen was? How dangerous he could be to them all?

Would recounting her experiences do it? Would sharing the events of her captivity? Would describing every single horrific detail?

Could they comprehend the unrelenting dread that seeped into the bones every time he smiled? To lose the strength to fight both physically and mentally? To feel the crushing weight of guilt and desperation for death to end it all?

Fingers gently caressed the palm of her hand before entwining with her own. She grasped that hand tightly, the cascading warmth spreading through her body and chasing away the nightmares skirting her consciousness. She gave Ichigo a small, but appreciative, smile.

When her breathing steadied, she lifted his hand and gave the back of it a quick kiss. She suppressed an amused smirk when he turned away from her, finding some distraction with someone on the plane in an attempt to hide the slight pink blush on his cheeks.

Shinji was waiting for them on the tarmac, standing next to a limo, arms crossed and his foot tapping impatiently as they disembarked. Yanking the car door open, he hurried them all inside, not bothering to have the driver set their bags in the trunk.

"You're all cargo," he declared as he climbed into the seat and shut the door.

"I've been called worse," Ichigo quipped with a casual shrug.

Shinji ignored him and continued. "As most of you already know, those below a certain rank are not permitted to attend a Gathering, let alone know where it is."

Rukia didn't like the direction this was headed or the warning tone etched in Shinji's voice. "Do you mean to say you didn't get permission for us to come here?"

Shinji sighed and kneaded his temples furiously. "I attempted to, but apparently the older chancellors take the matter of bringing outsiders here so late into the Gathering very seriously. You should have seen their faces when I brought it up. You'd have thought I'd murdered their children in front of them."

"Surely they would be willing to make an exception considering what we have to tell them," Orihime tried to reason, but Shinji shook his head.

"I didn't exactly tell them who I was bringing or why."

"Why not?" Rukia demanded. "Chancellors Sullivan, Genryuusai, and Cordova all know I'm coming. Why hide it from everyone else? And why didn't the others speak up to assist you in your request?"

"We all agreed it was for the best if it appears as though I'm acting independently," Shinji explained. "And we all agreed to keep your arrival hidden. It has been made clear that none of the chancellors, nor members of their entourages, are immune to blackmail or bribery."

If Sado was insulted or uncomfortable with Shinji's barb, he didn't show any signs of it.

"You think some of the chancellors are compromised," Ashido concluded.

Shinji massaged his neck. "I'd like to think not, but Aizen has proven to be annoyingly resourceful. No one, despite their standing, is out of the question."

"So what did you tell them?" Rukia asked, annoyed by yet another obstacle.

"To them, it appears as though I've simply made a request to add people to my own staff. I didn't think it would be a big deal, but I misjudged their paranoia. The request was immediately rebuffed and considered a waste of their time."

He huffed and pouted slightly. "I only have a quarter of the staff the others do."

"Since you've smuggled us onto the island," Rukia continued, ignoring Shinji's grumblings, "what is your plan for hiding us until the meeting?"

"Each chancellor gets their own villa. We'll be hiding you in the one assigned to our council. They are secure - or as secure as they can be. Once there, you will all need to remain indoors. We can't risk anyone spotting you until the meeting. If they find out you're here, we won't have to worry about Aizen trying to get to you. They'll execute you on the spot as traitors."

"What's to stop them from killing us when we arrive at the meeting?" Ashido asked.

"We'll have a bit more leverage at that point. As soon as you arrive to plead your case, the other three chancellors will call for the rest to hear you out. Keeping their distance will prevent suspicion of collusion and immediate sentencing."

Ichigo shifted in his seat and the others looked grim. The risk of the remaining chancellors calling for their execution was higher than any of them would have liked. The standing of their four councils was fairly high, even with their damaged reputations from the previous year. As the founder of the councils, Genryuusai's voice carried a great deal of weight, but Rukia couldn't help but worry.

"Sleeping arrangements have been made," Shinji continued. "The rooms aren't large and the beds are a bit stiff, but all in all you should be comfortable."

"How long before the meeting starts?" Rukia didn't like the idea of staying on the island longer than she had to. Even with the threat to their lives, there was something else that made her feel uneasy. As soon as her foot touched the ground, all she wanted to be was somewhere else.

She didn't like the way Shinji sighed.

"The plan was to take you there directly, but this morning, one of the typical spats turned violent. Normally these blow hards are satisfied with just insulting one another and making idle threats. This time, someone nearly lost their head - quite literally." Shinji massaged his forehead. "Unfortunately for us, it means we have to wait until he's fully healed before another meeting can be called, which should be by tomorrow afternoon."

A lot could happen in a day.

"Use it as a chance to rest," Shinji offered with a weak smile. "After tomorrow, no matter what the chancellors decide to do, there will be little opportunity for it."

"What _is_ the plan if they refuse to unite?" Orihime asked.

Even if they chose to hear her out, there was a very real possibility they would ignore the threat Aizen posed. She hoped the leaders would see reason, but Shinji was right, none of them were immune to outside influences that might force them to turn a blind eye to Aizen's movements.

"We continue hunting Aizen," Ichigo stated, appearing almost baffled by the question. "Rukia and I have been tracking him for over a year, and we've gotten pretty damn far without the unified force of the councils. If they decide they'd rather focus on something else, then fine. We'll keep moving forward until that son of a bitch is dead."

"The British, CAC, and Japanese councils are weakened but motivated," Shinji offered, "and Sullivan despises the idea of one man dismantling what she's worked hard for. Four councils aren't a lot, but they're enough. And we might even be able to pull the support of a few others through alliances."

"With or without their support, I'm in this until the end," Ashido declared. "That bastard will only grow bolder. He can't be left to his own devices."

"Agreed," Orhime echoed. "For some reason or another, if Chancellor Sullivan cannot throw her support behind the fight, I'll continue to work with you."

Sado nodded and said nothing else.

Rukia only smiled, but her heart swelled. These people, her friends both old and new, were willing to risk their lives and reputations to join in the hunt against Aizen. They saw what he was capable of and refused to ignore him. The chances of their chancellor's turning their backs on Aizen were slim, but the gesture meant a great deal.

"If our efforts fail, and the councils do refuse to act, we'll need to escape quickly," Shinji informed them.

"We?" Ashido questioned.

"You think I'd stick around here once they know I facilitated your arrival?" Shinji bulked. "No thank you."

The limo pulled up to one of the buildings Rukia had seen from the plane, just a few tiers down from the top. Shinji motioned for them to wait as the driver got out and searched the area. Three taps on the window indicated the coast was clear, and with great urgency, they hurried out of the car and into the villa.

On the outside, the sharp cornered building appeared fairly small, dwarfed by the mountain it clung to and sandwiched between two other villas, but on the inside, everything was quite spacious. Minimalistic decor and practical furnishings made proper use of the space. It was surprisingly inviting, with dark wood floors and walls with floor-to-ceiling windows gazing out onto a small patio with an infinity pool and stunning views of the ocean.

Shinji made them wait at the entrance until Kensei appeared.

"We're bug-free."

"Bugs?" Ichigo asked curiously.

Shinji ushered them further into the villa. "We have to check at least twice a day. Last week we found three different ones, each from an entirely different territory. Like I said, this place is mostly secure."

While the villa took up little in terms of real estate, it concealed four floors supplied with everything chancellors and their entourages could possibly need during their stay. Stationed on the top floor were the chancellor's and guard's quarters. The second floor had five small bedrooms, each furnished with double beds and their own bathrooms. A decent sized and expensive looking kitchen, living room, an entrance to the patio, and two more bedrooms and bathrooms were all on the main floor. On the last floor were three more bedrooms and bathrooms and a small open area for training. Every single room had unhindered views of the island or ocean.

If everything went to hell, at least she would have a good view to remember it by.

One of the few attendants that arrived with Shinji escorted Rukia and Ichigo to their room. Ichigo fell face first onto the bed. Rukia closed the door and set her bag down on the floor. The thought of a shower was tempting and she wandered into the bathroom attached to their room.

Like everything else in the villa, the bathroom was small but beautifully decorated. The shower walls were solid sheets of marble and the floor matched it with marble hidden hall tiling. But it was the impressive waterfall showerhead that nearly had her dancing her way into the glass framed shower. Under the near scorching water, Rukia took a deep breath and enjoyed the quiet isolation. Here, there were no doctors barging in and out of her room, no eyes watching her every movement, wondering if she would break or attack. There was nothing except the sound of falling water and Ichigo's even breathing.

How many more opportunities would she have like this?

If Shinji was right, when the councils united they would have little time for rest. The real hunt would begin. And how long would it take, she wondered. How many weeks, months, years before they finally managed to bring Aizen down? How long before it was all over and Ichigo disappeared from her life?

A chill ran through her. Quietly she recited his promise before scanning the room. She breathed a sigh of relief when she saw no signs of her powers encroaching on the smooth walls of the shower.

Before she ruined another decent bathroom, Rukia turned off the water and wrapped herself in a towel. Catching her visage in the mirror, she stopped and studied herself.

Her skin was beet red, a color it hadn't seen for some time. Since her rescue, she'd taken on a rather pale pallor, and it was nice to see touches of a different hue, even if temporary. Oddly enough, her hair was longer. It had all been burned in the fire, and yet after a day, it had grown back with a vengeance. Now it touched a few inches past her shoulders - an annoying length. It would have be tied back to keep out of her eyes. Briefly, she wondered if cutting it would do her any good, or if it would just grow back.

Her eyes travelled fell to spot on her chest where the scar used to be. It was long gone, healed when Starrk's blood stitched her back together. It was strange, she almost missed it, the hint of imperfection and indication that she was still normal in some way.

The phantom sensation of heavy metal striking bone knocked her forward. She caught herself on the counter and took a deep breath, trying to shake off the memory and keep herself grounded in reality. It took a little longer than she liked, the steam having evaporated from the glass and mirrors, the tips of her hair almost dry. At least she got through it herself.

Standing steadily on her feet, she left the bathroom.

The sun was beginning to set on the western side of the island, casting the waters and land in fiery shades. Moving past the bed, Rukia opened the window and let the sea breeze in. It was soft and warm, hints of brine and fragrant flowers drifting on the current. Waves rolled up on the shores and crashed against the outlying rocks a few miles out.

It should have been soothing, and yet something continued to nag at her. Was it paranoia? The endless feeling that no matter where she went, Aizen was watching, waiting, planning? Or was it something else? Something not as sinister, yet just as dangerous?

Shinji's warning echoed in her head and she thought to take a step away from the window.

Arms slipped around her waist and sandalwood mixed with the sea air. It was deep and calming, easing the anxiety eating away at her.

"You should get some rest," he whispered in her ear.

He was right. She needed sleep. They both did. Tomorrow would be a long and trying day, and they needed to be at their best. But sleep wouldn't come to her. Whether it was the nightmares, that mysterious sensation tugging at the back of her mind, or the worry of speaking with the chancellors with the hangman's noose not too far from Ichigo's neck, she wouldn't be able to sleep.

"Should I get Orihime?"

"No." Rukia held Ichigo in place as he started to pull away. The last thing she wanted was drugs. They were a great help to her, but they were a tool, one she refused to become dependent upon. The demons would be contained without them. The battle wouldn't be pretty, but it was important she controlled them on her own.

Ichigo tightened his grip as she shivered and then reached around her to close the window. She caught his arm as he closed it and brought his hand to her lips. Lightly, she brushed the heel of his hand with a kiss before placing it over her heart. His head dipped, his lips resting against the naked curve of her shoulder.

It was a moment she could live in forever. No enemies. No wars. Just peace and quiet wrapped in the warmth of love.

And one day it would be gone.

 _He_ would be gone.

Promise or not, in one form or another, she would be left alone with nothing but this memory, and her heart twisted painfully at the thought.

If this was her last chance before the final hunt, the last moment of serenity, she wanted to make it perfect.

Raising his hand, she felt his heart skitter as she grazed the skin of his wrist with her teeth and then kissed it gently. It pounded and stuttered as she skimmed her way to the tips of his fingers, his callouses rough on her lips. He pressed himself deeper into her shoulder, his other hand gripping the fabric of her towel as she coyly slipped a finger into her mouth. He was struggling to keep control, every muscle straining as he held himself back and let her set the pace. Turning her head, she nipped at the lobe of his ear, grinning when his jaw clenched and strained the tendon in his neck. Slowly, she worked her way down the hard line of his jaw until he caught her lips with his.

Their explorations were tender and unhurried, each trying to commit every touch, every loving sensation, to memory. But she wanted more.

Taking hold of the hand on her torso, she guided it between the folds of the towel. The heat of his skin burned a trail up her stomach, and when he held her in his hand, his fingers teasing and kneading, her body was set aflame.

Still, it wasn't enough.

The towel dropped to the floor as she took his other hand and brought it to her bare hip. In an instant, it was gliding across the surface to the sensitive skin between her legs.

The world around her exploded with light. Her knees weakened, but Ichigo held her up, stroking, tugging, slipping between her folds and diving into her. She struggled to catch her breath, to keep control of her voice as pleasure overwhelmed her. The playful nips at her neck nearly sent her over the edge, and she found herself cursing him airily.

She twisted in his arms and pulled his mouth to hers, dominating as she pushed him towards the bed. His knees caught on the end of the mattress, causing him to fall backwards. Making quick work of his pants, she knelt on the cool tile floor between his legs. Through his clothes she had felt his arousal but seeing it was another matter entirely. Desire nearly overtook her, wanting nothing more than to feel him, be with him, be a part of him. The coil in her belly tightening was difficult to ignore, but she would wait.

He gripped the sheets and hissed when she took him. Watching him writhe beneath her, because of her, brought back a feeling of empowerment she hadn't quite realized she'd lost. With a flick and twist of her tongue, the firm squeeze of her hand, she could send him spiralling out of control, careening into the depths of oblivion. But he was pulling her up, dragging her to him where he devoured her lips with such passion and love she thought her heart would burst.

His shirt was gone. There was nothing between them now except air and skin. Their hearts pounded erratically in their ears and she was certain the world could hear them - and she didn't care. All she wanted was to be with him, the rest of the world be damned.

When he was inside her, her mind emptied. All hesitations, all worries and fears, vanished. It was just the two of them, bonded together, and nothing else. In the moonlight that spilled through the open window, they clung to one another, melding where they touched and riding the waves of ecstasy until they plummeted off the cliff's edge.

Rukia fell beside him, warm and tingling, her chest heaving as she tried to catch her breath. Ichigo wasn't in any better condition, his eyes glazed over with satisfaction as he stared up at the wood beamed ceiling. Then he turned to her and pulled her to him. A pleasurable thrum coursed through her as he captured her lips and explored her body with his hands. The rest of the night was spent without words, every emotion, every thought, expressed through loving touches, intense kisses, and blissful embraces.

If tomorrow everything ended, Rukia was glad to have this one night.

* * *

At first, she thought the light pattering along the rooftop was rain, but the blinding light of the full moon told her otherwise. Shaking off the jitters from her recent nightmare, Rukia struggled to figure out what it was she was hearing.

Footsteps.

Lots of them.

They were running along the rooftops, in the halls, and on the patio.

With a single touch, Ichigo was awake. And with a single look, he was reaching for his sword beside the bed. Rukia's fingers wrapped around the hilt of the dagger stashed beneath her pillow. There wasn't much time to do anything else. Five men were in their room, dressed in black and surrounding their bed. Blades were drawn, pointed at the pair of them.

Ichigo shifted so he was in front of her and she almost rolled her eyes. As if it would do any good. And of the two of them, she was the one who stood a better chance of surviving an attack.

Despite baring his teeth and a threatening growl rumbling from Ichigo, none of the other men moved. They were well trained and extremely disciplined. Unless ordered to do so, they would not move.

These weren't Aizen's men. And they weren't Shinji's. Who, then, were they?

"Rukia Kuchiki. Ichigo Kurosaki," one of them declared formally. "You are both under arrest for treason. Prepare for your execution."

* * *

 **Author's notes:** Thanks to everyone for reading, and for those who followed and favorited! Sorry it took me another 2 weeks. These chapters keep rewriting themselves.

Special thanks to those who left reviews: **Amethyst hazel, Inverse L. Reena, MugetsuIchigo,** and **anonymous guests**! Please R &R! I love hearing from you guys, especially after this chapter!


	26. Chapter Twenty Five

**Author's Soundtrack:**  
Killing Strangers by Maryilyn Manson

* * *

Chapter Twenty Five

* * *

They were marched up the mountainside, surrounded by men called Guardians and their weapons. Ichigo eyed one of the swords that was uncomfortably close to his throat. He thought to snap at the man, but recalled Rukia's warning before they were escorted out of the villa.

" _Complete obedience. Let Shinji handle this."_

And yet their chancellor had done nothing so far. He'd watched grimly as the guardians rounded up his entourage and held them like hostages in his villa. He'd done nothing when they'd knocked Kensei out for trying to follow them. He'd said nothing to the rest of them as they were pushed out the door and escorted up the mountain. He led the line and was still silent. When was he going to handle it? When half of them had their heads rolling across the floor?

Ichigo glanced back at Ashido, Orihime, and Sado, each looking pensive and eyeing the Guardians as they walked. It was clear they were itching to escape, but were waiting for any sign from Shinji. Ahead of him, Rukia's back was razor straight, as if she was quite comfortable with all the swords pointed at her. The threat of a blade meant nothing to her now, and that worried him. She couldn't die, but that didn't mean she had to suffer the experience of death anymore.

At the top of the mountain was a pavilion, a large open space with seats lining three sides of the room. There were no walls, only an arched ceiling supported by scattered Grecian columns, giving chancellors unimpeded views of the island. But Ichigo could hardly appreciate the scenery when they were lined up in front of the chancellors for judgment. Ichigo expected more of them. Quick counting put their total at around 20, and nearly all of them were furious.

Old man Genryuusai spoke.

"Chancellor Shinji Hirako, Councilor Rukia Kuchiki, Agents Ashido Kano, Orihime Inoue, Sado Yasutura, and Ichigo Kurosaki, you are all charged with the high crime of infiltrating the Gathering and breaking one of our most valued laws. The penalty is death. How do you plead?"

"Fucking pissed off." Shinji stepped forward, his wide mouth downturned as he scowled at the chancellors. Some smirked and tried to hide behind clasped hands, but others gasped in shocked offense and murmured unhappily. "Oh shut up. I'm sick of you all cowering up here and ignoring the reality of threat we're facing. You're so busy enjoying your positions and bickering with one another, you haven't even realized that it's all being taken away from you."

Beside him, Rukia's head dropped with a disapproving shake. Orihime looked stunned and Ashido was having difficulty hiding his smile. Needless to say, this was not what Rukia had expected of Shinji. Ichigo, on the other hand, was more than pleased.

"Chancellor Hirako," one man began, standing as he glowered at Shinji, "you forget your place-"

"Oh shut it, Yue," Shinji snapped. "I've tried, for weeks, to get you all to listen to me when it comes to Sousuke Aizen, and most of you have chosen to ignore me either due to prideful disinterest or blissful ignorance. In that time, he has managed to manipulate, blackmail, and use us against one another."

"None of us would bother with a lowly criminal like Sousuke Aizen," a pale man sneered, his Russian accent thick.

"Wouldn't we?" Shinji challenged him with a knowing smile. The Russian glowered at Shinji's implication.

"Are you saying members of this Gathering are working with Aizen?" another chancellor spoke. Her skin was dark, her demeanor calm and intimidating. She measured Shinji's words and considered them seriously.

"I am, Chancellor Buhari."

"That is quite the allegation. Do you have any proof?"

"Are you actually considering this lunacy?" Yue slammed his hands on the table in frustration.

Shinji snapped. "For over a year I've attempted to get all of you to take the threat of Sousuke Aizen seriously. At every turn I was met with mockery or aggression. By ignoring him, you have exposed our weaknesses, our people, and risked everything we have worked for."

"If Chancellor Hirako has proof that we are being misled and used, I would like to hear it," Sullivan cut in, leveling a glare at Yue and forcing him into his seat.

Shinji stepped forward. The Guardians moved to stop him, but Genryuusai waved them away. As he approached the table, he tossed a few plastic bags to the chancellors. In them were the chips pulled from the rogue vampires.

"These chips were found surgically implanted into rogues who had been terrorizing at least four councils we are aware of. They were put there by Aizen as a way to track and execute the rogues when they risked revealing information about him or were no longer of any use. We are convinced one was even implanted into Chancellor Cordova's son, leading to the death of a human ambassador in Spain."

A chancellor was on his feet, spewing violently in Spanish at another chancellor - a broken looking man Ichigo immediately assumed was Cordova. Others stood and began shouting, defending and attacking.

A sharp, ear splitting whistle silenced them all.

"Chancellors," Shinji called for order. "We've fought amongst ourselves long enough. It's time we turned our full attention to the real threat. Aizen has outmaneuvered us and is now on the brink of successfully having us tear each other apart."

"He is but one man," Yue argued, seeming to find his voice again. "You overestimate his capabilities."

"Do I?" Shinji studied Yue and the man squirmed. "Aizen is responsible for the torture and murder of the Fumiko family, nearly wiping out their entire line. As a foreigner, he worked his way on to the Japanese Council. Using mercenaries, he used his insider knowledge to locate and destroy several, well protected, Harvest Chambers within the span of a week. He colluded with my predecessor, turning him against his own people. He created an army of newborn vampires, stuck perpetually in the Rage, and used them in an attempt to wipe my council off the face of the map. He has captured, tortured, and destroyed the lives of some of the highest ranking members of our councils, and has still managed to elude notice or capture. Do you think I'm still overestimating him?"

Shinji now stood at the edge of the table separating him and Yue, his eyes angled down his nose as he challenged the argumentative chancellor.

"Tell me, Chancellor Yue," Shinji wondered quietly. "How long has it been since Aizen turned you to his side?"

Yue was on his feet again, his face inches for Shinji's. "How dare you? Ours was one of the first councils to join with Chancellor Genryuusai. We have been here since the very beginning, and you would dare accuse me of betraying him and everyone else?"

"Was it after he took your daughter?"

The man's eyes widened briefly, his mouth falling open. "How do you-"

"Has he provided evidence she's still alive?"

The look of utter fear and grief turned Ichigo's disgust with Yue to sympathy. Just like Cordova, his family was used against him. Aizen had taken something precious and twisted their love to his advantage.

"None of us are out of his reach," Shinji addressed the room, leaving Yue to wallow in his sorrow. "We _must_ put aside our attachments and our differences, and work together to find Aizen and put a stop to him before it becomes impossible."

"You speak of the rumors that he is a true immortal," the Russian chancellor scoffed. "Ridiculous."

"Is it?"

Ichigo felt something in his gut twist viciously. Beside him, Rukia stiffened, her breath shaky. Silently, Ichigo prayed Shinji wasn't planning on giving them an example. Rukia was only supposed to provide a testimony.

"We recently discovered that Aizen, through extreme experimentation, has created a type of pill that allows the user temporary immunity from death. All death. For a period of time, the user cannot be killed by any means."

The room was silent, the chancellors caught between disbelief and curiosity.

"How did you happen upon this discovery?" Buhari asked, clearly doubtful.

Shinji motioned to Orihime and Ashido. "These agents, from two separate councils, witnessed the capabilities of these pills for themselves during the rescue of Councilor Kuchiki."

"Is it true?" Buhari asked, sighing heavily when both agents nodded.

"But how?" another chancellor demanded, a disturbing gleam of curiosity in his eyes.

Ichigo watched Shinji. This was the moment. This was when Shinji would declare it was Rukia who was the source. They would demand proof, and despite everything she had been through, the number of deaths she suffered, she would show them without hesitation. Like an animal in a circus, she would perform for them. She would give up everything if it meant putting an end to Aizen.

He wouldn't allow it.

"Shinji," Ichigo warned with a threatening growl. Rukia put a hand on his arm and gave a small shake of her head. He couldn't see her eyes, hidden by her hair as it fell in front of her face, but he could feel her the quiver of her hand. It wasn't necessary. The chancellors were wavering. There were few who still hesitated, but not enough to warrant putting Rukia on display, to put a target on her back.

"Your greed is showing, Chancellor Awolo," Shiji quipped with a sneer. "We're not sure how Aizen was capable of creating this pill. The facility where he kept his records was destroyed after he fled, leaving nothing but ash."

Ichigo could have kissed him, would have kissed him, but the Guardians had yet to lower their swords.

"It does not matter," Genryuusai stated. "It is clear that Sousuke Aizen will continue to pose a threat to our way of life. Although I disapprove of your flagrant rule-breaking, Chancellor Hirako, this time you and yours shall be forgiven."

The tension in the air was lifted. There were those who were still unhappy with the outcome, but the majority were now focused on their new enemy. Ichigo took a deep, calming breath and looked at Rukia. Her smile was weak, but he knew she was relieved. Taking her hand, he gave it a gentle squeeze. Now, they could get down to business.

"Save your revelries for another time," Genryuusai chided, quieting the chatter. "There is much to be discussed. Chancellor's shall remain. The rest of you are dismissed."

And just like that, the swords were withdrawn and they were shown out of the pavilion and down the mountain path.

"That was. . . much easier than I anticipated," Orihime observed thoughtfully.

"That's what you call easy?" Ichigo asked, baffled.

"The Guardians and the chancellors used a great amount of restraint," Rukia explained. "They could have had us killed on sight. Instead, we were brought to them for a final hearing."

"It's a good thing we had Chancellors Genryuusai and Sullivan on our side," Ashido remarked. "They likely used their positions to convince the others they needed to at least hear us out before execution."

"Which likely wasn't difficult, given many of the chancellor's propensity for drama," Orihime concluded.

"We wanted them to listen and take Aizen seriously," Rukia concluded, "and now they're doing it."

"It'll take them awhile to determine a course of action," Orihime continued. "They're still politicians after all. It'll give Aizen more time to make his next move. Maybe we should continue with our plan to work independently?"

Ashido nodded in agreement. "Seems like the best course."

"We have no idea where he's gone," Rukia reminded them.

"What about that Nel chick?" Ashido asked. "She knew where you were last time because of their insider. Maybe they'll help us again?"

"Speak and ye shall receive, assholes!"

Grimmjow sauntered up the path, his arms extended as he grinned wildly, like he was the second coming. Nelliel walked quietly beside him. The guardians who were following the others hurried to surround them.

"This is cute," Grimmjow remarked, his smile falling slightly as the point of a sword hovered dangerously close to his neck.

"What are you doing here?" Rukia asked in shock, quick to order the guardians to lower their weapons. They did so with great hesitation.

" _How_ did you get here?" Was what Ashido wanted to know, eyeing Grimmjow suspiciously.

"This place isn't as secret as those raggedy old douche bags like to think it is," Grimmjow sneered with condescension. "The world has changed, but they've been so busy fighting one another they forgot about how fucking obnoxious humans can be."

"You're talking about satellites," Ichigo surmised.

"Give the kid a fucking prize."

"We're aware of satellites," Ashido countered. "That's why we have contracts and agreements with those who own them."

"I never figured you for an air head, red." Grimmjow grinned as Ashido snarled. "You think you're the only ones with connections and coin and," his grin widened dramatically displaying his long canines, "leverage?"

"Shit." Rukia and Ashido pieced together something simultaneously and turned to race back to the pavilion. A body fell from the sky, crumpling on impact and spraying the ground with blood. Another dropped, but this one landed on her feet. When she stood, her pale eyes watched them hungrily.

"Aizen's newborns," Rukia hissed as three more landed in front of them.

Above, a plane flew overhead. Bodies jumped from the sides and back, falling to the island without a thought or care. They were scattered, landing in various places around the island, but a heavy concentration of them arrived near the pavilion, blocking the pathway leading to it. Many destroyed their legs, or bodies entirely, but all of them were anxious for a fight.

"Didn't think to mention the ambush sooner?" Ashido growled at Grimmjow, who simply shrugged. His eyes lazily tracked a nearby newborn, struggling as it ambled to its broken feet.

"Didn't think you'd take so long to catch on."

"I suggest you focus on breaking through to reach your chancellors," Nelliel offered. She pulled a short sword from a sheath behind her back and cut through one of the rushing newborns with ease. "Our contact was able to get out one last message before they went silent. Aizen plans on ending the battle with the councils tonight."

They were outnumbered, 3 to 1. A thick wall of newborns barred the way, but they were just mindless fighters. The challenge they presented was minuscule. Ichigo just had to remember that they weren't people anymore. They weren't like Yuzu and Karin. These people stopped being human a long time ago. Now they were soldiers, trapped in a madman's war, forced to carry out his orders until death claimed them. There was no negotiating. No sympathising. They were weapons, and that was it.

But getting through them was more difficult than he anticipated. They weren't entirely mindless. They moved as if they could strategize. They dodged and parried, flanked and combined attacks. But it wasn't enough to stop Rukia and Ashido as they swept through a wave of newborns like a tidal wave. Orihime, Sado, and Ichigo focused on those that remained, while Nelliel and Grimmjow made sure they weren't flanked.

"Go!" Ashido shouted when they made a break in the line. Rukia and Orihime rushed through it, hurrying to the pavilion. The others were close behind.

It wasn't far, not at full speed.

They were there in seconds.

It wasn't enough.

Those open walls gave them a perfect view of the slaughtered chancellors before they even passed through the doorway. There was so much blood. So many limbs and pieces scattered across the pavilion. Most hadn't moved from their seats, draped across their chairs and the table as they bled out. Some managed to get up, only to be cut down where they stood. It was difficult to tell if there were any survivors.

Given the deafening silence, Ichigo had his doubts.

And in the middle of it all, blood soaked clothes and spattered skin, a grisly sneer on his lips, stood Aizen.

* * *

 **AN:** I'm so sorry it's been so long since my last update! I've been going through some personal stuff and it's taken a while for me to find my drive to finish this chapter. It didn't help that I ended up re-writing the whole thing twice. Hopefully you all enjoyed the final product. I'm pretty happy with where it ended up.

A few of you were concerned about this story going on too long. I didn't want to rush things. There are a lot of pieces that needed to come together, and those take time. I promise, I'm not drawing it out to draw it out. That being said, there are only a handful of chapters left. I'm estimating between 2-4, as I don't have them completely written out (thanks to some characters demanding their own chapters - lookin' at you Ashido).

I wanted to share some news with you all and have been waiting for the right time to bring it up. Except I have no idea when that would be, so I figured I'd just throw it out there.

For a while I thought about rewriting For Blood as it's own novel, separate from the Bleach universe; however, with the over abundance of vampires novels I wasn't sure it would really be worth it. BUT! I was thinking about making it into a webtoon. I think the action could be really fun graphically. Would you guys be interested in reading it at all? Are you vampired out? Be honest. I can take it. Sort of… XD.

Anyways, thanks to everyone for reading this story, favorting it and following it! A special thanks to **NieveDrop, IchiRuki 4vr (Welcome back!), Gin, manusxmachina (welcome!), and guests**!


	27. Chapter Twenty Six

**Author's Soundtrack:  
** Who Will Save You Now by Les Friction  
A Stutter (feat. Arnor Dan) by Olafur Arnalds (on the beach - the revelation)

* * *

Chapter Twenty Six

* * *

Genryuusai was dead, his body sitting prominently on his chair while his head glowered up at Aizen from the floor.

Shinji was dead, draped across the table with his head clinging to his body by a few thin tendrils of tissue, his hand gripping his bloodied sword.

Sullivan was dead, her throat ripped from her as if eaten by a pack of wild animals.

Every single chancellor was dead, killed by sword or mauled by the hungry teeth of Aizen's enraged soldiers. Not one of them lived. The head of the Councils had been ripped off, and with it, the hope of uniting their people against the very man who had ended their lives. With their leaders dead, the councils would withdraw within themselves or war with one another to take advantage of the chaos or seek revenge.

Aizen had won.

Several of the enraged soldiers gnashed their teeth as they encircled Rukia and the others, but she paid them no mind. There was only one man who had her attention, only one man she desperately wanted to kill. The one man who likely couldn't be killed.

Without a doubt, he had taken one of those damned pills, crafted from the First's blood and perfected by the study of her own torture. The duration of the effects was unknown, but Rukia was willing to wait for them to wear off and expose his mortality. She had all the time in the world.

One of the soldiers grew bold and lunged for Orihime, receiving a sword shoved down his throat for his efforts. Unlike the Chancellor's, Rukia and the others were not to be caught off guard.

"I'm afraid you're all a bit late to the party," Aizen said with an amused smirk, his tone almost jovial. "There is no one here left to save."

"But there is someone here to kill," Ashido growled through clenched teeth.

Aizen's grin widened. "I wonder about that. Do you think I'm so easily dispatched?"

"Those pills don't last forever," Orihime stated. "We know there is a limit."

"Is there?" Aizen seemed genuinely entertained and Rukia felt her stomach twist. "Perhaps in the versions I've given some of my experiments."

He was lying.

He had to be lying.

"There's only one way to find out, asshole."

Ichigo charged before she could stop him, his sword taking the head of one of the soldiers as he burst forward with frightening speed. He was blind with fury and blind to the guards flanking him from either side, too fast for her to intervene in time. One of the soldiers snapped at her face and grabbed for her. Cursing, she kneed him in the groin before removing his head with her sword.

Ichigo had managed stopped Ulquiorra's attack, blocking the heavy downward swing of the large glaive, but it left him exposed to Gin, who'd stuck his sword in Ichigo's side. Ichigo struggled, his blood spilling on the ground as he fought to hold off his attackers.

Ashido lunged at Gin while Rukia went for Ulquiorra's exposed torso, forcing him to focus his attention on her instead. She cringed under the bone shattering weight of the glaive as she blocked his heavy strike, her arms numbing under the immense pressure. Deep green eyes stared at her with little more than faint recognition as he reached out and grabbed her by the throat. Long, narrow fingers squeezed and white filled her vision just before Ichigo severed his arm.

She ripped the detached limb from her throat and inhaled sharply, struggling to maintain her footing as air filled her lungs.

"Idiot," she snarled with a curse as she glowered at Ichigo. Her gaze softened when she saw the extent of his injury. Gin's sword had cut deeply into Ichigo's side, the blood continuing to soak his clothes, and she worried Gin had coated his blade with a poison similar to what Kaien had used.

"I'm fine," he insisted, pulling her attention away from his wound.

"I don't think you have the luxury of being distracted," Aizen advised as Ulquiorra slammed into Ichigo.

Even with one arm, Ulquiorra was a challenge for him. His attacks were not only powerful, but determined. Whatever Aizen had done to the man, he'd created a loyal, fighting machine. One arm or not, he would fulfill his master's orders until death claimed him.

Rukia struck at his turned back, hoping to give Ichigo an opening, but Ulquiorra swung his glaive wildly. She managed to get her sword up in time, but the strike threw her across the room.

Sado's war cry filled the room as he plowed through the remainder of Aizen's soldiers. Ichigo and Ashido continued to deal with Ulquiorra and Gin. And Orihime -

While Aizen watched the spectacle before him with interest, Orihime had snuck behind him. She was crouched low and out of sight, her steel gray eyes alight with determination as she cut her blade upward.

Aizen easily blocked the strike with a small blade and chided her. "You're going to have to do much better than that if you want to touch the likes of me."

"Like this?"

An explosive crack thundered through the room and everyone stilled. Smoke wafted from the barrel of Orihime's pistol aimed at Aizen's head. The back of his head was gone, splattered across the bloodied floor, his smile fading as his body fell.

It wasn't done - _he_ wasn't done. Already the wound was beginning to heal, but this was the chance they needed. They could bind him, restrain him, and finish off everyone that remained. When his pills wore off they could finally put an end to this.

But what if they didn't wear off? Aizen's mocking words planted a seed of doubt in her mind. What if, like Starrk, and like her, his immortality was eternal?

Waiting was no longer an option. They would have to come up with a more permanent solution.

An agonized wail erupted from Ulquiorra and he charged at Orihime. Ichigo and Sado moved to intercept him as Rukia hurried to her side. The thick blade of the glaive slammed into Sado's side. If not for the armor he wore beneath, now exposed and damaged, she was certain Sado would have been cleaved in two.

The large Mexican stumbled and coughed up blood, his ribs likely shattered in the impact.

Ulquiorra snarled and nearly hammered his weapon into Sado once again, focusing on the weakened armor. Ichigo buried his sword through the crook of Ulquiorra's neck. Blood stained teeth snapped at him one last time before Sado wrenched his head off his shoulders.

They waited a few breaths to see if the body began to heal.

Nothing.

If Ulquiorra had taken the pills, they had worn off.

All that remained was Gin, who stood quietly watching. For once in his life, he didn't look the least bit amused.

"Worried?" Rukia wondered, drawing his attention.

Surprisingly, all he did was shrug. "We all die someday. Well, most of us anyway."

She flinched at the barb, but she had questions. "Where's Halibel?"

"In a ditch somewhere, I imagine."

Rukia looked at him curiously, leaving Orihime to restrain Aizen before he finished healing.

"Why? Was he through with her?" She asked, genuinely curious. As far as she could tell, besides Gin, Halibel had been with Aizen since the beginning. She assisted him with his experiments, watched over them and guided them to meet her master's goals. He trusted her to carry out his commands and evolve his plans. It seemed impossible for him to just toss her aside. Unless. . .

"She was the leak."

"One of them," Gin replied, that small smile returning. She frowned, sensing a deeper meaning behind his words. "She was helpful, even when she wasn'. But, once he had what he wanted, he didn' see a point in leavin' her be."

Gin peered around her towards Orihime. "I'd suggest you make those bonds nice an' tight. Double 'em, if you can."

"Offering us advice?" Ashido sneered.

Gin shrugged. "I suppose. Nothin' I'm sure you haven' thought of, except. . ."

"Except?"

"That you underestimate the speed with which I heal."

Rukia and the others turned and her heart stopped.

Aizen stood with his hand buried in Orihime's chest, his fingers gripping her heart. Blood spilled from her lips and down her chin as he squeezed the life from her.

Her heart hurt, recalling the familiar sensation of his fingers wrapping around her own heart, crushing it until it exploded.

She couldn't allow that to happen to Orihime, she wouldn't allow him to take anyone else from her.

She charged, targeting his arm. He didn't bother to move, allowing her to cut through the bone and separate his arm at the elbow. The appendage and Orihime dropped. Thankfully, Ichigo caught her before she hit the floor, his face pale with worry.

"Fascinating." Aizen studied the stump at the base of his arm with mild intrigue. Along the exposed muscle, ice glistened in the light, preventing Aizen's wound from healing. "It appears your powers extend to much more than creating ice from the air."

He turned his eyes to Rukia and she forced herself not to take a step back. Desire, of the most dangerous and recognizable kind, filled those ochre eyes and she resisted the urge to vomit. She didn't want to think about the new experiments he was conjuring up in that twisted mind of his.

Then his eyes widened with surprise and rare distress as the ice began to spread, consuming the heat of his body and crawling up his arm towards his body. It was like what had happened to Nnoitora in the alley.

And then his arm was gone.

Gin stood beside Aizen starting down at the remnants of Aizen's infected arm.

"Very fascinating," Aizen remarked to himself. "It seems I'm not meant to be through with you yet, after all. Ulquiorra-"

"Dead," Gin informed him. "Pills wore off."

"That's rather unfortunate. Gin, please capture Ms. Kuchiki and bring her with us."

"Like hell we're going to let that happen," Ichigo snarled. Covered in Orihime's blood, his eyes gleamed with rage as he continued to hold her dying body. Ichigo looked ready to tear the world apart, and not even she wanted to get in his way.

Aizen studied Ichigo, then Ashido, who had moved into position beside her. Sado was clambering to his feet, and though he wasn't even close to being healed, he was ready to fight.

"Sir. . . " Gin began, his tone insistent.

"I suppose you're right, Gin. Until next time, my dear," he said with a quick bow before retreating.

"There won't be a next time," Rukia growled, racing after Aizen as he fled. She appreciated what the others were trying to do for her, but she would not be protected. She would not hide. She would be the blade that cut through Aizen and ended this once and for all.

Gin turned to stop her, but Ashido tackled him to the ground, leaving her path clear.

Ichigo called for her, but she wouldn't stop. Any delay could mean Aizen's escape.

Aizen was racing down the mountainside, unbalanced and stumbling as his arm continued to heal. Something in the depths of her heart reached out to her, called for her. It had been a whisper in the pavilion, but now it was a roar. And she answered it. Gathering all her anger and grief, Rukia joined with the call and swung her sword. A wave of ice sprung from her sword and hurtled towards Aizen. The sounds of rocks sliding and ice forming rapidly behind him had his head turning. He shifted to avoid the frozen tidal wave and turned to smile at her.

She hissed and sent another wave. Then another. Then another. She would bury him in ice and rock and seal away his monstrosity forever. Whether his healing was permanent or not, it didn't matter. He would spend the remainder of whatever days he had trapped in her prison.

The sand of the beach gave beneath her feet as she stumbled off the mountainside. Running here wasn't much easier than on the uneven, unstable rock of the mountain, but she managed to close the distance between them.

Another wave of ice missed, but nearly caught his arm. Every time she used the powers, it seemed to come to her much more easily, like drawing a breath, and she wondered how it had been so difficult before.

She spotted a helicopter on a small landing pad, his only means of escape. Mustering as much energy as she could, she sent a large wall of ice towards it. Metal groaned as the ice encapsulated the nose and blades, damaging them beyond use.

With nowhere to run, Aizen stopped and turned to face her. His injured arm had finally been resorted, along with his pensive demeanor.

"I've been curious about these abilities of yours since you first used them. Have you always been in such control of them?"

"I don't give a damn about your curiosity," she snarled, sending another wave towards him. The depths of her anger seemed bottomless, providing nearly endless fuel for the powers. But her limbs were growing heavy, her body beginning to tire from use. Never had she used her powers to such extent and for so long. It was clear there would be a limit and she would need to capture him before that limit was reached.

Aizen dodged the attack and continue to study her.

"That is one thing I was never able to determine. Why were my healing factors temporary and yours not? Why did you receive nearly impossible abilities when I and others did not?" It was the most frustrated she had seen him, but it did little to satisfy her.

Rukia threw another wave at him and followed through with a series of attacks with her sword. Unarmed, he was still able to avoid taking damage from her assault.

"Of course, I imagine it has something to do with your legitimate blood ties to the First. It's unfortunate Halibel damaged the blood samples and data we took in Guatemala. We'll have to start over from scratch."

"The fuck you will," she growled, sending another wall of ice towards him, forcing him to dodge once again. The fighting arena was shrinking, towering walls of ice steadily closing off any further opportunities of escape. Just a little more and she would have him completely cornered.

"Are you afraid?" Aizen whispered in her ear, sounding genuinely intrigued by the concept. Seething, she kicked backward and stabbed at him.

"Which scares you more, I wonder? The experiments themselves or what they reveal about your true character?"

"Shut up!" She clenched her teeth and tried to grasp the threads of her anger. Sweat beaded on her forehead and her heart pounded with exhaustion.

Just a little more.

"Does he know?" Aizen asked, amused he had found a sore spot. "About the lives you stole? The young girls whom you comforted only to devour so violently?" His grin spread. "You needed so many, it was almost difficult to supply them."

Rukia stumbled and her heart dropped. She only remembered a couple of them. Even through the hazy, drug-addled memories, it was easy to recall their terrified faces as she drained them, their depleted bodies lying limp on the floor. But there were more? How many did she actually feed on? How many did she not remember? How many died so she could live only to be tortured again?

It was almost worse knowing she couldn't remember their faces, hidden away in shadow to be forgotten by the one who killed them.

"Do you think he could ever forgive you?"

Aizen's voice was distant, but she could still feel him behind her. She needed to focus, to fight him, but she needed to remember them all.

Why couldn't she remember them?

"He's strangely attached to his humanity." He was in front of her now, staring down at her with those terrifying eyes. They brimmed with glee as he easily tore her down from where she had struggled to build herself up. "How long do you think he would stay by your side if he knew?"

Her heart wrenched as he asked the question that had been eating away at her.

Ichigo's promise filled her ears but couldn't reach her heart that was saturated with the blood of innocents.

"Until the day she gets tired of me."

The black blade of Ichigo's sword pierced through Aizen's chest and wrenched upwards, splitting him in two. Dark amber eyes pinned her with their intensity and, for a moment, she couldn't breathe. There was anger there, relief, desperation, and fear. But there was something else, something more powerful. It was too much, and she found herself collapsing in the cool sand.

Ichigo was beside her, pulling her to him and wrapping her in a tight embrace.

"Shit, Rukia, you're freezing."

"A side effect of her using too much of her powers."

Rukia stared up at Nelliel and Grimmjow as they weaved around the maze of ice.

"Like what you've done with the place," Grimmjow remarked, tapping one of the icy walls with the pommel of his sword. "And here we were supposed to be worried about you."

The sounds of Aizen healing drew their attention to his body. In just a few seconds his torso was nearly completely stitched together. Grimmjow sneered and rammed his sword through Aizen's heart, slowing the healing process, buying them some time.

"We're not sure how many pills he took or how long they last. Our contact wasn't able to give us consistent numbers," Nelliel offered.

If Aizen was to be believed, he had overcome those limits.

It wasn't safe to assume the effects of the pills were temporary anymore. She had to believe he was a true immortal. If that was the case, they couldn't risk leaving him in a typical prison.

The call was back, softer, like a song. She was exhausted, but she needed just a little bit more.

"Stand back," Rukia ordered. "Grimmjow, leave your weapon."

"The fuck I will," he argued.

"Leave it," Nelliel commanded. "You've been complaining about not getting a new one for some time anyway."

Rukia held her hand out and reached to connect with the power. The air crackled around her as the temperature dropped and ice formed around Aizen's body and Grimmjow's sword. Only when he was completely encased in a nearly a foot of ice, did she stop.

Ichigo took hold of her once again, rubbing her arms to warm her.

"You're gaining better control," Nelliel observed. "That's good."

"What about her body temperature?" Ichigo asked, his voice etched with concern.

"She'll warm in time."

"And Orihime?" He asked, drawing a desperate look from Rukia.

"She's alive?"

Nelliel smiled. "She is. Her heart was severely damaged, but the pills Ashido found on Ulquiorra were quite effective."

Rukia shivered despite the relief she felt. At least something good came from those pills.

Then an idea struck her.

"Could we use them on the Chancellors?"

The smile fell from Nelliel's lips. "I'm afraid not. The benefits of the pills only work as long as it is consumed before death. If not, the body cannot break it down. Your chancellors are gone."

Genryuusai and Shinji were gone.

It was difficult to imagine her life without either men in it. Genryuusai had been a grandfatherly figure to her. Even though he had exiled her, he had spared her life and Ichigo's. He had been strict and seemingly harsh in many of his decisions, but he had fought to find a life for their people in a world ruled by humans. Without him, their people may have died out a long time ago.

And Shinji had sacrificed so much for her and Ichigo, giving them a home when they had none. Helping them in their search for Aizen when he could have ignored him like so many others. He had taken on the mantle of Chancellor when no one else had wanted it, putting himself at risk and setting aside his own desires. He had picked up the broken pieces of the British Council and rebuilt it to be stronger. There were times he had been obnoxious and ridiculous, but he had been a good man.

She wanted to grieve for them both, and for the others who had died tonight, but there was still so much to be done.

"Aizen killed your contact, Halibel," Rukia informed them, though she couldn't bring herself to sound upset about it. She might have meant something to Starrk and Nelliel, but her loss meant nothing to her. Perhaps she might have done some good, but in the end, she had been responsible for a great deal of suffering for both Rukia and Ichigo.

"I don't blame you for your anger," Nelliel said. "And though I know it will bring you no comfort, know that she did try to help where she could."

Ichigo scoffed, but Nelliel didn't appear insulted.

"Will you come with us?" She asked Rukia. "Mr. Starrk would still like to train with you, get to know you. Ichigo can come as well."

Weeks ago, she would have jumped at the opportunity. Now, however, the councils needed her more. With the chancellors dead, the councils would need guidance in their recovery, direction to help them move forward instead of falling into chaos. And Aizen would need to be dealt with. There were few she would trust in dealing with his body.

And there was a nagging feeling Starrk was more than what he seemed. Although he had done nothing to earn her distrust, she couldn't ignore her instincts.

Even if she did, now was simply not the time.

"No. Not yet, anyway," she answered.

"I understand. You have my number, should you change your mind."

With a polite bow from Nelliel, and a bored scoff from Grimmjow, they departed.

Rukia and Ichigo sat alone in the sand, his arms wrapped tightly around her. It hurt, but she didn't mind, not compared to the pain that was steadily gripping her heart the longer they sat in silence.

Ichigo had heard what she had done, knew that she took the lives of humans. It was the one thing she feared to tell him most, the one thing she was certain he would never forgive.

And still he refused to leave her.

Ashido had been right, and Ichigo had kept his promise.

Despite being 131 years younger than her, Ichigo was the stronger of the two.

"I wanted to tell you," she whispered into his chest, her fingers gripping the material of his shirt. They shook, but she wasn't entirely convinced it was because she was still cold. "I was afraid of what you would say, what you would think. I-"

"Rukia," he cut her off, pulling away so he could look her into the eyes. He brushed stray strands of hair from her face, giving him an unobstructed view. "You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to. I can't even begin to imagine what it was like for you, what you had to go through, what you had to do."

She opened her mouth, but he pressed a gentle kiss to her lips and continued. "I know it couldn't have been easy, and that it still isn't. It haunts you, and likely will for years to come. I wish like hell I could take some of that away from you, but I can't. All I can do is be here for you when the nightmares become too strong, when the regret and grief are too much for you to handle, and to listen when you need to talk."

He cupped her cheeks and brushed the tears that fell from her eyes with his thumbs. "I'll be here for you, just like now. I can't do much, but this I can do, and I will. Happily."

She choked on the sob caught in her throat and her heart ached at his words. There was so much she wanted to tell him, to share with him. There wasn't a single thing she wanted to hide, but at that moment all she wanted to do was be in his arms and take comfort in his presence and love.

She didn't know how long he would be able to keep his promise, how long they could be together, but she didn't care. They would take it day by day until that very last day.

"Come on," Ichigo said, kissing the top of her head, then her lips when she looked up at him. "Let's get back to the others and start cleaning up this mess."

With a nod, they stood, leaving the cause of their pain and suffering freezing on the solitary beach.

They could finally move forward. And for their love, she would move forward as well.

* * *

 **Author's Notes:** And here we are, at the end of the second story! It's taken us a while to get to this point, and I hope the wait was finally worth it. I know romance is one of my weaker areas, but I hope this tugged on all the right heart strings ;).

There is one more chapter left, the Epilogue. That one hopefully shouldn't take as long for me to get out since I shouldn't have to rewrite the entire thing 80 times like I did with this chapter.

I want to thank everyone for your continued favorites and followings, and the reviews, which mean so much to me! A special thanks to: **NieveDrop** and **IchiRuki 4vr** \- the pair of you have been amazing throughout the posting of this story!

Please R&R with your thoughts on this chapter! I'd love to hear from you guys until the very end!

P.S. I did want to note that I reread some of my previous chapters and found some continuity errors (why didn't you guys tell me?!) that I want to go back and fix. I've already fixed one at the end of Chapter One. It's not a huge change, but should make things a little clearer between the end of Chapter One and Chapter Two.


	28. Chapter Twenty Seven

**Author's Soundtrack:**  
Purgatory by Digital Daggers

* * *

Chapter Twenty Seven

* * *

Rukia turned off the Jeep's engine and stepped out on to the overgrown forest floor of the Cascades. The cool Pacific Northwest air kissed her cheeks and the scent of sticky sweet pine filled her nostrils, easing some of the tensions that had built up in her chest over the last 12 hours.

Ahead of her was the trailhead, hidden by weeds and underbrush, only noticeable because of the dilapidated sign declaring it closed and trespassers prosecuted. And at the end of it was the thing she had been waiting to see for nearly a year, the thing she desperately wished to put behind her for good.

Ichigo took hold of her hand as she came around the front of the car and gave it a comforting squeeze. He'd come with her without hesitation, already had the bags packed before she could finish asking.

And she was grateful.

As much as she tried to do things on her own, she continued to find herself leaning on him, relying on his strength and unwavering presence. She'd grown to love it more than fear it, learned to trust in him rather than doubt.

Squeezing back, she offered him a smile before releasing his hand and taking the lead.

Their phones were useless, the signal having disappeared an hour ago, but Orihime had provided detailed directions and recognizable landmarks to follow - all of which were needed. Given the lack of abandoned state of the trail the trek was considerably more difficult than Rukia expected, but it put to rest her concerns of easy discovery. Cearly, no casual hiker would have any interest it cutting through the tall undergrowth of the forest, and someone with more direct interest would have trouble finding the path.

Still, she grew anxious as the boarded entrance to the mine appeared, rising from the ground like an earthy mausoleum. Appropriate, considering its contents.

"You're sure this is the right place?"

She could understand his hesitation. The entrance to the mine was questionable at best, collapsible and capable of crushing them under the weight of the mountain at worst. The aged wooden beams barely clung to the iron nails latching them to the carved walls. Roots from the surrounding trees had began to reclaim what was once theirs, splintering wood and stone.

A low moan echoed from the entrance, the ground trembling ever so slightly and loose rocks dislodging from their precarious holds, falling in front of the entrance like a dusty waterfall.

"Pretty sure," she finally replied, stepping into the tunnel.

Past the entrance, the walls were still rough and raw from the days when the tunnel had been expanded with pick axes and manual labor rather than machines. Her eyes adjusted quickly to the dark as they descended deep into the earth. The path was winding and steep, forking several times before they came to a dead end, boarded up and painted with a warning.

 _"Warning: Unstable Tunnels. Trespassers will be prosecuted."_

"Now what?"

Rukia stepped forward and began searching until she spotted a small gap in the wall. Without hesitation, she reached into it.

"That's how people get their arms ripped off in movies," Ichigo stated, not at all sounding concerned.

Rolling her eyes, she felt around for the familiar texture of metal and buttons. When she found it, the tip of her finger brushing against the small bump indicating the number key, she typed in the code Orihime had given her. When the last button was pressed, the sound of a lock unhitching echoed quietly in the tunnel. She stepped back and pulled the wall with her.

The planks and stone moved as one and swung open like a door. Behind it was the rest of the tunnel, the walls now smooth, hinting at their newness. The door swung closed behind them automatically, and after a few more twists and turns in the path they stood in front of a modern steel door and keypad. She typed in another set of numbers and a panel above the keyboard slid open and glowed green.

" _Retinal Verification_ ," a voice declared.

"Are you in the system?"

Rukia frowned and leaned forward. Orihime hadn't told her much about the precautions put in place, giving her only a set of numbers. The security system would show her the rest, she had said.

Leaning forward. The green laser made her eyes water as it passed over her eyes.

 _"Verified. Vocal Verification."_

"Rukia Kuchiki."

 _"Verified."_

She stepped back.

Nothing happened.

Ichigo stepped forward and tried pulling the handle, frowning when it didn't budge.

 _"Second verification needed."_ The computer informed them patiently.

"So it knows there's more than one of us and requires each to person to pass the test?" Ichigo wondered, moving forward to get his eyes scanned and declare his name.

A series of gears turning and latches snapping clanked inside the door before it slide open. Bright white light filled the tunnel, causing them to cringe as their eyes tried to adjust. Once she could see again, she stepped inside a well lit hallway. The walls were stark white and the floors a hard tile. It continued straight, no bends or forks, just one direction.

At the end was another door. This time, there were no buttons, no panels, just a door without a handle.

Rukia frowned, wondering what they were supposed to do.

Ichigo knocked.

Rukia gawked at him.

"What?"

It couldn't have been that easy. Could it?

The door opened and Orihime greeted them with a friendly smile.

"You made it!"

"Don't act like you weren't watching us since we turned off the main road," Rukia remarked, stamping down her happiness at seeing her friend.

An amused smirk spread across Orihime's lips. "Maybe. Come on in."

Inside the door was a small foyer leading to a living room and kitchen. The walls were painted a warm and inviting pale yellow, the floors a dark wood, and furniture was scattered about. This was more than just a secured facility, it was a home.

"I like your new digs," Ichigo remarked as they walked through the living room.

"Not mine," Orihime explained, "this is for the agents who are stationed here. I'm just visiting so I can give you a personal tour."

"Where are the agents?"

"One's sleeping, the other is watching the cameras. They trade shifts."

"And him?"

Orihime glanced at Rukia over her shoulder, her smile fading slightly. "He's got his own special room. Shall I take you to him?"

With a nod, Orihime escorted them to a hallway. Several doors flanked them, each leading to another rooms Orihime didn't specify. She stopped in front of one door. It didn't stand out, looking very much like all the others. Rukia expected her to insert a card, code, or scan her eye. Instead, she twisted the handle and entered.

"DNA," Orihime clarified, holding up her hand. A small speck of blood beaded on the tip of her finger. "The handle pricks the skin, reads the DNA. If you're on the approved list, you can open the door. If not. . ."

"And how many people are on the approved list?"

"Five."

"That's a very short list."

"It should be. No one else needs access to this monster. Even the agents who are watching him don't have access."

Every step of the way, every security measure they had to pass, helped loosen the knots in Rukia's chest. It would be impossible for someone to stumble upon the facility by accident, and just as unlikely for someone who did know it's location to access it's contents. Codes, biological and audio scans, and armed guards with 24 hour surveillance. It would take an army to get to him. And even if an army did come, it would take them time to get to him. Enough time to move or destroy him.

Sousuke Aizen stared down at her from the center of the room, still frozen in her ice. Even through the thick glass and metal, she could feel the chill rolling off the container in waves.

"The temperature inside is constantly monitored," Orihime explained. "If it shifts even one degree, the system adjusts. If there's a power fluctuation, it shifts to a backup system. If the container itself is attacked, a metal guard drops into place and the container is transported through a series of tunnels to a specified drop point where an agent will take him to a new facility."

All of this to keep one man from ever coming back to life.

It had taken a momentous effort to get several territories to provide the resources needed, and to have done it all within a year. Rukia couldn't help but look at Orihime with respect and gratitude. She had spearheaded the effort, working to convince the new Chancellors of their cause, allowing Rukia to step out of the limelight.

"How many people know about this?" Ichigo asked, glowering at the man inside the cage.

"Outside of the five people who have access, only the chancellors of each territory are aware that we are housing a prisoner. And they are all very aware of the consequences should there be a leak or attempt to retrieve him."

"Good," Rukia breathed, almost easily. "The fewer people who know about him and the system, the better. Aizen's army is no more, his top people either dead or captured, and his monsters nearly wiped out, but that doesn't mean someone else won't get a stupid idea in their head."

Rukia narrowed her eyes at the monster before her, etching the rare look of surprise into her memory. When she thought of him, this was the face she would remember. Nothing else.

Orihime asked if they wanted to stay, but Rukia didn't want to be anywhere near him. This trip was for her piece of mind and she finally had it. There would always be a small, nagging voice, but it was quiet for the moment, and she wanted to enjoy the silence.

Rukia heaved a heavy sigh as she slipped into the passenger seat of the Jeep, Ichigo practically glaring at her to step away from the driver's side. After a year, her body suddenly felt the weight of exhaustion and it showed. Giving her his jacket to use as a pillow, Ichigo began the long drive out of the mountains.

But she couldn't sleep.

Despite the fight being over, despite seeing Aizen locked away in the depths of the earth, her dreams were still filled with nightmares that had her screaming herself awake.

Aizen was gone, but his mark on her was not.

Ichigo was beside her on the bed of the hotel, cradling her in his arms as she tried to steady her breath.

"He'll never leave me," she mumbled into Ichigo's chest, gripping the fabric of his shirt.

"Neither will I," Ichigo stated without hesitation. His words were a drop of warmth in a sea of ice.

"You'll die one day."

His grip on her tightened. "That was always going to happen, whether I was human or vampire."

"I won't."

He pulled away from her, taking the little bit of warmth with him. She regretted her words, regretted the negative pull of thoughts that crept in the shadows of her mind. She didn't want to push him away. She reached for him and he was there. He hadn't been leaving, only turning to face her and cup her face in his hands. The tips of his thumbs caressed her jawline and his eyes stared into her's.

"It doesn't matter. You said yourself no one knows how long vampires can actually live for. I'm going to put that to the test. We'll find out how truly immortal vampires are."

"Ichigo-"

"You threw down the challenge and I'm accepting it." He kissed her gently on the forehead. "I told you that day on the beach that I would be here for you, and I will. I'm not one to break my promises."

He pressed his lips softly to hers.

"You're stuck with me, Rukia Kuchiki."

The small drop of warmth spread, chasing away the ice to the furthest reaches of her heart. She wouldn't be alone. He would stay beside her for as long as he away alive. It was ridiculous to think he would remain attached to her for centuries - 21 was still so very young, even for humans - but the sincerity of his words, the tender caress of his lips, the desperate grip on her hips, told her that if his feelings did fade it wouldn't be any time soon.

* * *

 **Author's Notes:**

And that's all she wrote, folks! We've reached the end of For Love. Thank you so much for taking the time to read, and to those who waited so long after reading For Blood. Your dedication and interest in this story means so much to me!

I hadn't planned on there being a third story, but there are still a few loose ends that need to be tied up. I've already started the groundwork for the final part of this story, which will be titled For Family. I'm hoping it won't take me nearly as long to write this one, but it will be a bit. There are a few other stories that I have been wanting to write, so I'm going to turn my focus to those.

As I mentioned a couple chapters ago, I thought about turning this story into a web comic. I'm still not certain whether that's the route I want to take or if I want to make it a novel. I'll keep things updated in my profile so if you guys are interested.

Again, thank you so much for everyone's feedback, reviews, and support. Lastly, a special thanks to **MugetsuIchigo, Haru000, NieveDrop, NuruNu,** and **J** for your reviews on the last chapter. I'm going to miss you all, but hopefully it isn't too long before my next Bleach Fanfic!


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